


Bad Habits

by TheoreticalMindGames



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: ASB Keith, ASB President Allura, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Fighting, First Kiss, First Time, Highschool AU, Keith is lowkey edgy, Lance has anxiety, Lance is a "bad boy", Lance is semi edgy, Lance just needs a therapist, M/M, Mutual Pining, Nerd Keith, PINING KEITH, Pining, Slow Burn, Smoking, Treasurer Keith, Underage Drinking, Underage Smoking, broganes, foster kid Keith, get the boy some help, not really - Freeform, pining lance, they/them pidge
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-21
Updated: 2018-06-21
Packaged: 2019-05-09 22:45:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 29,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14725016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheoreticalMindGames/pseuds/TheoreticalMindGames
Summary: Lance has a few bad habits, such as smoking, getting into fights, getting detention, etc. Keith is the newest treasurer on the ASB. There is no way in hell they could ever get along.





	1. Tattoo

Chapter 1 - July 

 

“Lance Alejandro McClain!” 

 

Lance winced at his mother’s shrill voice in his ear. The full name never meant any good. She smacked him on the arm that wasn’t wrapped up in clear plastic. 

 

“Ah!” Lance scowled. “Mama it's not a big deal!” 

 

“Not a big deal?!” The way she waved her arms around said that yes, it was a _very_ big deal. “My son has a tattoo! You’re officially an adult and this is the first decision you decide to make?” 

 

Lance groaned again and rolled his eyes, trying to ignore the dull pain subsiding in his newly inked bicep. He would have liked to say it was an impulse choice, because that sounded a lot cooler, but he had wanted this for years. He had walked past the parlor everyday during the summer on his way to the skatepark, smiling to himself and waiting for the exact day he turned eighteen.

 

And he definitely didn’t cry during the appointment. No, he was too tough for that. 

 

“I’m old enough Mama, please let it go!” And by let it go he meant his actual, physical arm caused  _ wow  _ that woman had a strong grip. 

 

“While you still live under my roof, you live under my rules!” She smacked him again and hoisted the laundry basket back on her hip. “What is abuelita going to say at tonight's birthday dinner, huh? You’re gonna give her a heart attack and then how would you feel?”

 

“Geez, you don’t need to be so dramatic.” Lance cowered, trying hard to not imagine his abuela dropping to the ground at the sight of his newly adorned arm. 

 

“Well you’re going to be wearing a dress shirt this evening anyways,” As if this was a given, “So just don’t bring it up.” She gave him one more hard look in the eyes, and walked off muttering ‘..can’t believe this… a tattoo?  _ Dios ayuda me _ …’ 

 

Lance sighed and leaned back against the front door. Now  _ both  _ of his arms were hurting and his heart. He hated disappointing his mother, yet he did it all the time. With the fights. The smoking. And now, the tattoo. At least his grades were good. She would really kick his ass then. 

 

“Did we just hear mama say you had a tattoo?”

 

“Can we see it?” 

 

Lance watched the twins bound down the stairs, eyes wide and hair messy with static. 

 

“Yeah nice to see you too! Thank you, it is my birthday!” Lance plastered fake enthusiasm into his voice, but in all realness he was just as excited to see the twins as they were him. 

 

The two girls ignored his sarcasm and continued to climb on him, yanking his arms. 

 

“Ow! Yeesh  _ chiquitas _ , I’m not a jungle gym!” 

 

The girls giggle and Lance hoisted one of them, Mariana, into his arms. “You gonna give me birthday love or not?” He smoothed her hair down. 

 

“It’s our birthday too Lance!” Lena poked him in the ribs. 

 

Lance gasped dramatically. “What? Why didn’t you tell me?” He spun Mariana around as she squealed, clutching to him with her thin arms. 

 

“My turn!” Lena screeched, jumping up and down in her matching blue polka dot socks. 

 

“Aye Lance!” His other sister Lily came thumping down stairs. “Do you have to get the girls all riled up? Some people actually enjoy the quiet.”

 

Lance glared at her. The only time it was quiet in this house was when they were all gone. Even at night, his mother snored like a grizzly bear with a cold. “Oh let them have fun, it’s their birthday.” He scooped up Lena and spun her as well. Mariana laughed and danced around them singing a squeaky rendition of ‘Happy Birthday.’ 

 

Lily rolled her eyes, and set her crutches against the counter and settled into a chair at the kitchen table. “Why’s your arm all wrapped up?” 

 

When she was barely six months old, Lily began to have several streams of strokes. The multitude of them affected her in such a way that she diagnosed with monoplegia, a from of isolated paralysis. She has no feeling in her left leg, and little feeling in her right. His entire family had been quick to accommodate, as they always were. Once Lance turned sixteen he was able to help take her to doctors appointments and physical therapy. He had never met a more optimistic fourteen year old than his sister. She even got excited when Lance was the one to take her to physical therapy. Probably because they always got milkshakes afterwards.  

 

Lance set Lena down and grinned devilishly. “Got a tattoo.”

 

“What?!” She beckoned him towards her, and grabbed his hand, trying to peer through the plastic. “Can you take this stuff off? Also I can’t believe Mama didn’t kill you.” 

 

“I’m lucky to be standing here. And I don’t think it would be very nice to kill your own son on his birthday.” He said solemnly. “And yeah I can show you.” He peeled the tape off his arm and slowly unwrapped it, the plastic crinkling softly. 

 

Lily looked at the swirling navy waves that curled around his biceps. Flames licked at the blue, intertwining with them, like they were battling it out to occupy the space on his arm. They wrapped smoothly around his shoulder and stopped in a jumbled collision near the point of his elbow. 

 

“Wow, that’s really good.” Her breath was warm against his arm. 

 

He beamed. “Thanks! Yeah, the guy did a pretty good job.” 

 

“Why are you smiling like that? You get the guys’ number or something?” 

 

Lance reared back. “Wha- no! He was like, twenty-five!”

 

The guy who tattooed him had a full sleeve on his left arm, and a prosthetic on his right. And even though Lance didn’t ask for his number (well, he did have his card…), if he had been younger Lance definitely would have gone for it. He was the epitome of hotness, and the shock of white hair on his head and the scar slicing across his nose somehow made him look even more attractive. 

 

“Well you are eighteen…”

 

Lance shoved her hard, blushing. Nothing made him feel more warm than his family casually validating his sexuality. He came out to them when he was a sophomore and they were beyond perfect. So perfect that Lance sobbed for about an hour in his mother’s lap, while his sisters hugged him. His older brother Luis had come home very confused, but soon joined the group hug. 

 

“Did it hurt?” Lena poked his arm gently. 

 

Lance jerked away, which proved the answer to her question. “I just got stabbed a thousand times, what do you think?” 

 

She laughed, leaning back in her chair. “Well it looks really good. Fits the whole thing you’ve got going.” she gestured her hand up and down his body. 

 

He scowled at her. “And what is that?”

 

“The whole ‘I’m a bad boy and I’ve got piercings and a now I’ve got a tattoo’, but in actuality you cry whenever we watch We Bought A Zoo.” 

 

“It’s a very heartwarming movie!” He scowled even harder as he rewrapped the plastic around his arm, carefully re-sticking the tape to his tan skin. The twins continued to tug at his jeans, asking if he wanted to play in their fort with them. 

 

So that’s why their hair was all crazy. 

 

“Sorry  _ chiquitas _ , I’ve gotta go take a shower before all the guests get here.” He patted their round cheeks softly as they pouted. 

 

He trotted upstairs and peered into the twins room to see how big a mess they had created. Chairs were stuffed in each corner and blankets were lazily draped over them, holding on with large hair clips. All their couch pillows were stuffed under the blankets, as well as their many, many stuffed animals. 

 

“Do you like it Lance? It’s our pet store! Do you wanna buy a pet? We have lots of dogs!” 

 

The twins rushed passed him into the room and jumped up and down as they fired off questions. 

 

“Maybe later girls, alright?” 

 

As soon as they got their answer they went back to playing, chatting happily and cradling the stuffed cats and dolphins in their arms. 

 

Before Lance got in the shower, he checked and double checked different websites to make sure he could take a shower with his new tattoo. Even though the artist had said he could take short ones, he still wasn’t positive because he hadn’t really been able to pay attention that well. A jittery excitement had overtaken his senses as soon as he had finished. He had even taken his meds this morning but apparently those didn’t do shit when he was  _ really  _ excited. He needed to get all this excitement out before he went back to school in a month, because no way was he gonna seem anything more than nonchalant about the new addition to his self proclaimed ‘edgy ensemble’. 

 

He took a quick shower after confirming that yes, he was allowed to take one, and put on a blue button up that covered his arms. Time to brave the many many guests that would ask countless questions about what he wants to do with his life. 

 

At least the food would be good. 

  
  


__________________

 

September 

 

Senior year. This was the year to make memories. The year to go to parties. To go all out. And Lance was going to do it all. 

 

But first he had to sit through an hour long assembly. In his rush to get to school on time for the first day, he had forgotten his stim cube on the kitchen counter. He bounced his knee anxiously as he listened to the principle drone on about the school motto and how he’s very excited for this school year and blah blah blah. Lance wasn’t really hearing any of it. 

 

“Hey Hunk, you got a hair tie or something?” He nudged the large guy sitting beside him. 

 

Hunk furrowed his eyebrows and began to dig around in the pockets of his cargo shorts. His hands turned up empty. “Sorry man, I’ve got a paperclip?” He offered Lance the small piece of metal. 

 

Better than nothing. 

 

“Thanks man.” Lance grabbed the paperclip and began to twist in in his fingers, bending the wires in and out of place. The students around him began to clap and Lance looked down at the gym floor below. The new student council for this year was filing onto the floor, standing in a neat little row beside the podium. Lance kinda knew most of them. He wasn’t too invested in anything having to do with school spirit or ASB. 

 

The student body president was Allura Altea and man was that girl beautiful. Like, amazingly so. Lance had tried and failed and tried again (and failed), but no guy or girl was getting to her. Lance was kind of afraid of her if he was being honest. One time she had caught him smoking by the dumpster during lunch and he almost had a heart attack. She ended up not reporting him, but just poked his sternum firmly and told him to put out his cigarette. And who was he to say no to a lady? 

 

Beside her was the much shorter Pidge Gunderson, the secretary. Hunk was friends with them, but Lance hadn’t really ever hung out with them. He was sure he had never seen them without a screen reflecting off their oversized glasses. Even now, they were scrolling through their phone quickly, lips pursed in concentration. 

 

Beside them was Keith Kogane, the treasurer. Lance didn’t think he spent his money wisely, evident in the messy haircut and boring ensemble that he wore everyday. Which was a black sweater over a button up, and black jeans with black converse. Lance wasn’t sure if he washed the same clothes every night or had replicates of the same outfit. Or maybe he didn’t wash his clothes… Every time Lance had passed him, he smelled pretty good. Like dryer sheets and cinnamon gum. Which he was always chewing. Even from high up in the stands, Lance could see his angled jaw moving up and down slightly. He looked like he wanted to kill everyone in the stands. He probably could too. 

 

To the Keith’s right were the class presidents, and he didn’t really know the names of those people accept the senior class president, Nyma Ran. Lance had kinda sorta maybe slept with her at the party her brother Rolo threw every year. Everything had been fine and dandy until he woke up at four in the morning chained to the bed with handcuffs and his pant nowhere in sight. Every time the passed in the hall, she would brush his wrist and chuckle. It made Lance shiver just thinking about it. 

 

“Welcome to the 2017-2018 school year Lions!” Allura announced into the mic as she stepped up to the podium. The room cheered and he heard several cat-calls. 

 

Lance lost focus about halfway through her speech. Not that it wasn’t good or interesting but god he had been sitting still for too long. How long was this thing anyways? It felt like four hours had passed. 

 

Allura introduced the rest of the ASB with enthusiasm that was barely returned by her fellow students standing beside her. Lance was just glad when the whole thing was over so he could actually stand up and move his ass. 

 

“Hey McClain!” 

 

Lance whipped around, acidentally smacking Hunk in the arm. Lotor was walking through the crowd (or more like the crowd was walking around him) with his silver hair tied back neatly in a low ponytail. The guy walked like he owned the place, which he practically did. Not only was he fighting for the valedictorian spot, second to only Keith and Allura, but he also threw the best parties. 

 

Lotor gave him a smug smile. “You coming tonight? My parents are out of town.” 

 

Lance grinned back. “You betcha man.” 

 

They exchanged a ‘bro-high five’ and then Lotor continued his way through the hall, his posse of girls walking confidently behind him. 

 

Lance turned to Hunk but was cut off my his friend placing his large hand on his face. 

 

“No no nope, I am not going with you tonight.” 

 

“Why not!” Lance pried his the hand from his face and pouted. 

 

“Because you always end up getting into something and then I have to be the one to bring you home and make sure you drink enough water and actually get into bed not smelling like booze so that when you wake up your mom doesn’t find out and-”

 

“Woah buddy, take a breath.” Lance placed two steading hands on his friend’s shoulders. “I’m supposed to be the one with anxiety.” 

 

Lance watched as Hunk shoulders rose and fell with a deep breath. “Sorry, I just worry about you man.”

 

Hunk was always the one to clean up his face after a fight, or help him quit smoking, and it’s always been like that. Lance doesn’t really want a world without a Hunk beside him. He had broken some kids nose for picking on Hunk last year. Not his finest moment, but he would do it again if he had to. 

 

“You don’t have to go Hunk, only if you want to.” 

 

Hunk rolled his eyes, accenting it with a sigh. “Of course I’m gonna go with you stupid.” 

 

Lance beamed the whole way to class. 

  
  


*

 

Fifteen. That’s how many people had complimented his tattoo. 

 

And Lance was eating it up like candy. 

 

“Your head is gonna explode with all this attention feeding your ego.” Hunk muttered as they walked out of the school to Lance’s car. The day had gone by quickly and Lance was grateful for that. The only homework he had was to get some syllabi signed, but that was hardly anything. Besides, he didn’t have time for homework tonight. He had a party to get to, shots to take, and people to make out with. 

 

The air was warm outside, slow breeze that shook the leaves from the trees was cool. Lance dug his cigarettes from his backpack and pulled his blue lighter from his pocket. With the practiced flick of his thumb, he lit the white end of the cigarette and brought it gracefully to his lips. 

 

“I thought you were quitting.” 

 

Lance chuckled. “Yeah well you know how that goes.” 

 

Lance had tried to quit three times. The first time, the beginning of junior year, he had tried cold-turkey but that ended up driving him crazy to the point where he was pacing all the time and snapping at his siblings. The second time was after winter break of his junior year. His mother had asked for him to quit for Christmas. That time he went for tangerine gum. He would go through a pack of gum a day and he was able to do that for about a month. The third time was right before school let out for summer. Hunk had held his cigarettes hostage and would smack him every time he tried to light one. He had tried going to a therapist that time, but he ended up falling back into it in the middle of summer. He hated that he had started this disgusting habit because he thought he looked cool, and for…other reasons. He knew how hard it would be to quit too, and yet he still brought the tan end to his mouth, inhaling and letting his lungs heat up for a moment, before breathing out. The grey smoke curled from his mouth floating away with the breeze. 

 

“Maybe you can try again. I’ll help you you know.” Hunk stood a few meters away from him. 

 

Lance sighed and took another drag. “Thanks man, I- I’ll think about it.” Cause even though quitting was the right thing to do, he just got so cranky and anxious when he did. This year was supposed to be good. He was supposed to  _ feel  _ good. 

 

When Lance was finished he crushed the cigarette underneath his boot and got in the car with Hunk. He unwrapped two piece of tangerine gum and chewed them as he started his car. When he tried to substitute the smoking with gum, he ended up just adding the gum to the smoking. At least he couldn’t get lung cancer from gum. 

 

The drive to Lance’s house was short and filled with loud pop music blasting from his crappy radio. The window only went down halfway, and they sometimes didn’t go up, which sucked when it rained. During the winter his car smelled musty all the time. But now they were down just because he wanted to feel the breeze. 

 

“What are the odds you get Shay’s number tonight?” Lance slipped on a navy t-shirt, twisting in the mirror as Hunk lounged on his bed. 

 

“Oh my god Lance would you give up on that already?”

 

“I won’t give up until you start actually trying. You are too shy and she is too shy and without some initiation, whatever thing you guys have got going, isn’t gonna get anywhere.” Lance fluffed his hair with his hands. He needed it to look messy but a pulled together kind of messy. People liked that look. 

 

Hunk buried his face in Lance’s pillow. “I just don’t want her to say no.” 

 

Lance stared at his friend. “That sunflower of a girl couldn’t say no to any living or nonliving thing in this universe. She apologizes to tables that she runs into for god’s sake. Tables Hunk. And you’re just gonna ask for her number.” 

 

“But I need a reason to do that!”

 

“Reason. You like her.” Lance shrugged on his jean jacket. “Only reason you need. She may even be at this party tonight.” He wiggled his eyebrows. 

 

Hunk groaned again. 

 

“Stop being a baby Hunk! Let’s get going man.” Lance grabbed his pack of cigarettes and stuffed them in his pocket. He also grabbed his stash that he kept on the small two by four that supported the bottom of his dresser. 

 

There were quick goodbyes to his mom, and they were out the door before she could ask any questions. Lance was gonna have a good time tonight. He didn’t care how hard he had to go. 

 

*

 

He could feel the bass before he could even see the house. Lance could never throw a party like this. Mostly because his mom would actually skin him alive and also he had way too many neighbors. And the twins were in bed by eight. And his brother had to study at night. The perks of Lotors house? A, it was fucking huge. B, it was out in the middle of bumfuck nowhere aka RichVille. And C, his parents were gone literally all the time. Lance swore this guy crawled out of a 90’s chick flick. Or maybe he had a time machine… or maybe he murdered his parents….

 

Lance tried to not dwell on the issue of murder as he parked his car and walked down the street with Hunk towards the house, complete with two story tall white columns framing the double front door. There were a group of people laughing loudly in a circle on the front porch, so Lance assumed the rest must be inside. 

 

And oh boy. 

 

‘The rest’ turned out to be the entire junior and senior class. Hunk tried to squeeze in behind Lance so he could close the door but he gave up and left it open. 

 

“Holy crap there’s a lot of people here!” 

 

“What?” Lance yelled in Hunk’s ear, as his eyes scanned the crowd. Most everyone had a red solo cup in their hand, many of the girls were wearing significantly less clothing then what they had at school earlier. 

 

“I’m gonna go get a drink!” Lance shouted, having given up trying to hear what Hunk had to say. 

 

Hunk nodded, which Lance took as the green light, and he began to slink through the crowd. He got several ‘hey McClain!’ and “Lance you came!” as he weaved through the sea of bodies, moving like a ride at the fair. It made him feel like he was a ‘somebody’ and not just another kid that they went to school with. He managed to grab a cup full of shitty beer and took a long sip. He ended up chatting with some of the guys he had physics with. That led to two shots done on a dare. Which led to another beer. Which led to more shots. Before he knew he was sitting with his legs splayed out in the grass, passing a joint around a lopsided circle. Half the circle was occupied by the art students, embracing their stereotypes casually. The other half was a mix of the stoner kids and some other people Lance didn’t really know. 

 

He had lost Hunk a while ago. He spotted him once talking to that Pidge person he was friends with. He was surprised to see someone from ASB at a school party, but he guessed everyone needed to relax and have fun. 

 

“Can I join?” 

 

Someone was nudging Lance’s back with his foot. Lance turned his head slowly, or it seemed slow from the few hits he had taken already, and looked up. Keith Kogane’s hair was pulled back into a low ponytail, his bangs hanging heavily over his navy blue eyes. His sweater-button-up combo was traded in for a black v-neck paired with ripped black jeans. 

 

“Uh, sure man.” Lance scooted over, probably getting grass stains on his ass. 

 

Keith crouched down and sat with one leg extended besides Lance’s, knocking knees with him. His other was bent with his foot pressed on the backside of his left knee. When the joint reached Lance again he inhaled deeply, letting the smoke settle in his lungs before exhaling shallowly. Keith’s pale fingers reached out to pluck the joint from Lance’s tan ones, holding up to his lips and taking it in. Lance watched as Keith let out the smoke smoothly and then lick his lips afterwards. 

 

“I got something on my face?” 

 

Lance blinked at him. Had he been staring? His brain was feeling too warm to want to think all the way. Or at all. 

 

“Hm no.” Lance hummed, turning his head back down the the grass. “Just wondering what you’re doing here.”

 

“What do you mean?” Keith bit back.  

 

“Like, you’re this silent nerd student council kinda guy. Didn’t think you’d be at a party.” 

 

“I’m glad you think so highly of me.” 

 

Lance started to giggle, tipping his head back and watching his breath escape into the cooling air. “Didn’t peg you as a funny guy.”

 

“You’re making a lot of assumptions there McClain.” 

 

Lance’s looked back at Keith, who was scowling at him. “Oh so you  _ do  _ know me.” 

 

“We do go to the same school. And you’re not exactly a quiet guy.” 

 

Lance giggled again, running his fingers through the grass. When he smoked he got flirty and goofy. It was like the weed amplified and muted his personality at the same time. He didn’t feel the anxiety or the sadness when he smoked. He just felt… _calm_. Like nothing in the world could ever bother him. That also meant he made some choices that sober Lance might not have made. 

 

“Well at least I have a little fun sometimes. You walk around like you’ve got a stick up your ass.” Lance managed through laughs. He received the joint again, which by the looks of it, was freshly rolled. The group must have finished the last one. He took a long hit, playfully blowing it in Keith’s face. 

 

Keith scowled again but took the joint from him and inhaled slowly. “I don’t have a stick up my ass.” 

 

“Whatever you say man.” Lance giggled again. “No sweater tonight.” Lance reached out and tugged on the collar of Keith’s v-neck, capturing the dark fabric between his thumb and pointer finger. Lance knew he was a touchy person, especially when he smoked and drank. But not usually with strangers. His hands had taken the wheel and his mind was taking a nap in the backseat. 

 

Keith leaned away slightly. “And?”

 

“Hmm, it’s good.” Lance nodded, still staring at his collar bones. They were like valleys carved out of an ivory bar of soap. 

 

Keith was still scowling, his lips pursed into a small pout. 

 

Cute. 

 

“What?” Keith’s eyes widened. 

 

Oh. Oh- he had said that outloud. Lance felt his cheeks get warm, partially from the weed and mostly from the added embarrassment of his unfiltered thoughts. He wasn’t supposed to be embarrassed about this shit. He was confident and cool, not flustered and panicked. 

 

“Uh, nothing.” He mumbled, quickly grabbing the joint again and taking another drag. 

 

Then another. Pass it on. Let it roll right past you. 

 

Keith looked up at the sky, before laying down in the grass, crossing his ankles and placing his hands behind his head. “No, not nothing.”

 

“Huh?” The delayed response confused his Lance’s smoke filled mind.  

 

Keith sighed. “You called me cute.” 

 

“I’m high, man.” Lance shook his head, hoping the lame excuse would be enough to convince Keith that he most definitely did not mean what he had said. 

 

“Okay.” Keith settled back into the grass. 

 

Wow that was easy. 

 

The group fizzled out slowly and soon it was just Keith and Lance, and a couple other people across from them, left with a mostly finished joint resting in a metal dish between them. Everytime Keith took a hit, he watched his cheeks hollow out slightly as he inhaled. His lips would part slowly and the smoke would travel from his mouth and float around him before the breeze caught it and it drifted away. Lance was thoroughly buzzed, both from the alcohol and the smoking he had been doing for the past hour. Had he really been sitting here for an hour? It seemed like he just walked through the door with Hunk. 

 

“Your tattoo.” 

 

Keith nodded towards Lance arm, chewing on the inside of his cheek making his already prominent cheekbones become even more so. 

 

“What about it?” Lance rotated his body to allow Keith a better look. 

 

“My brother, he did that yeah?” 

 

The sentence didn’t really make sense at first in Lance’s head. “What?” He snickered. 

 

“My brother did your tattoo.” Keith spelled out slowly, his mouth moving slowly as if that would make Lance understand him better. “I recognize his art style.” 

 

“The one with no arm?” 

 

Keith snorted. “Yeah, that’s him.”

 

“How’d he lose it? The arm I mean.” 

 

Apparently Keith thought that was pretty funny, covering his mouth as he laughed. His laugh was husky, like he was the one that smoked everyday and not Lance. 

 

“Airforce. He’s been home for like, two years but my foster parents still won’t let me live with him.” Keith sat up and fiddled with the laces on his boots. 

 

Lance watched as Keith’s features fell down, his hair casting a shadow over his face. Lance would have never thought that Keith was a foster kid. He was one of the only kids who had a 4.0. He seemed perfectly normal, besides the fact that he was kind of a loner. 

 

“When do you turn eighteen?” 

 

“December 23.” 

 

“Well you can move out then.” Lance shrugged. “I mean, are your foster parents really that bad?”

 

Keith sighed, taking a long hit and blowing it out towards the grass. “They’re fine. They just have three other kids, so I’m not really top priority. They gave me a place to live and feed me and shit so I shouldn’t really complain.” 

 

“Just because you have a nice home life, doesn’t mean you’re not allowed to have problems.” Lance took the joint from him. “Man I really hope Hunk is sober ‘cause there is no way I’m driving home tonight. And I think my mama would kill me if I came home like this.”

 

“Well you do it all the time.” 

 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Lance chuckled, setting the joint back on the dish. 

 

“You do this shit all the time. I’d think you’d be fucking dead by now.” Keith’s chest began to shake as giggles burst from his mouth at a much higher pitch than his other laugh. 

 

Lance laughed at him. He was right. He did do this shit all the time. “So what kind of stuff have you heard about me?” 

 

Keith giggled again. “There’s a rumor that you have a dick piercing.” 

 

That sent Lance over the edge as he rolled on the grass, clutching his stomach as he laughed. Keith fell back to the ground again, his hair falling from his ponytail as he giggled. 

 

Lance wiped the tears from his eyes and sat up. “That is so not true.” 

 

“Didn’t think so.” Keith’s smile made the corner of his eyes crinkle. “Man I haven't laughed that hard in forever.”

 

“S’probably the weed.” 

 

Keith only hummed. He leaned back to reach in his pocket, pulling out his phone. “Ah, my brother is here.” He moved to stand up but fell hard on his ass in failure. 

 

Lance giggled and crawled closer to him. “Here lemme help.” 

 

Keith pushed him away lightly, laughing again. “You’re not gonna be any help. You’re higher than I am.” Keith managed to push himself off the ground with the help of a nearby chair, still swaying on his feet. 

 

“You’re right!” Lance laughed even harder. “Come on help me up.” He made grabby hands up at Keith, who was still grinning hard. This might have been the only time Lance had seen Keith smile. It looked good on him. 

 

Keith reached down and hoisted him up, a little too hard causing Lance to launch into Keith’s chest. 

 

“Oof!” His head rammed into Keith’s collarbone. 

 

“Oh fuck sorry.” Keith giggled, still holding onto Lance’s hands. 

 

“You’re strong man.” Lance nudged him with his arm, letting go of his cold hands. 

 

“No I’m not.” Keith chuckled, nudging him back. 

 

They walked around the side of the house. Navigating through the dark while drunk and high was a challenge and a half. The repeatedly ran into each other, and Lance ended up walking straight into a tree. When they reached the front of the house, there was a black sedan waiting besides the curb. Lance walked up to it with Keith, who seemed to know that this was his brother waiting for him. The passenger window rolled down slowly, revealing- hey that was Lance’s tattoo artist! 

 

The man took one look at Keith and chuckled. “Wow, you are so high right now.” 

 

Keith just giggled in response. Then he was quickly turning to Lance, grabbing his arm. “Hey you need a ride home?” 

 

Lance didn’t know where Hunk was, but he hadn’t made an effort to find Lance so he figured it was cool. His mind decided to ignore the fact that he would have to leave his car here which meant he would have to take the bus to school tomorrow. 

 

“Uh, if that’s cool with your bro.” 

 

Keith leaned against the car. “Shiro, can you drive Lance home?” 

 

“Does he live far?”

 

“I live by the school!” Lance said maybe a little too loudly. 

 

Shiro craned his neck forward to look at the other kid standing beside his brother. “Oh hey man, I did a tattoo for you right?” 

 

“You betcha sexy.” Lance winked and laughed to himself for saying something so witty. 

 

Keith crawled in the backseat, and Lance followed him, sitting in the middle right besides the other boy. 

 

“You’re sitting on my buckle,” Keith laughed, tugging at the belt underneath Lance’s butt. 

 

“Hey stop yanking on my butt!” 

 

Keith thought this was the joke of the century as he laughed, hunching forward in fits of giggles. Shiro just shook his head and told them to hurry up. 

 

Lance leaned close to Keith’s ear and whispered, “You’re brother is really hot.” 

 

Shiro snorted in the front seat as the slowed at a red light. Apparently volume control when you’re high isn’t a thing. 

 

“Dude, you can’t say shit like that.” Keith nudged him harshly with his elbow, tilting his head to the window. 

 

“Awe don’t be jealous Keith.” Lance poked him in the cheek repeatedly. 

 

Keith giggled again, swatting his hand away. 

 

It took Shiro a few minutes to get Lance’s attention, but soon he was able to guide him to his house. Lance crawled out of the back seat, almost falling on the ground as he clambered out. 

 

“Thanks for the ride Keith’s brother.” Lance saluted Shiro sloppily and laughed to himself. 

 

“Sure thing. Drink some water man.” Shiro said. Lance nodded again and walked up to his front door, digging his keys out of his pocket. 

 

“Lance! Wait!” 

 

Lance turned around slowly and saw Keith running up to him, something in his hand. “You’re jacket.”

 

“Oh thanks bud.” Lance took the jean jacket from him. He must have taken it off on the ride here.“Thanks for smoking with me tonight. It’s boring when you’re alone.”

 

“Yeah, we should do it again or something.” Keith smiled. One of his hands was still lingering on the jacket. 

 

“Sounds good Mr. Treasurer.”

 

Keith rolled his eyes, letting go of the jacket. “Bye Lance!” He whisper-yelled back to him as he walked back to the car. 

 

Lance smiled back and waved. Now he just had to get back in the house without waking up his mom… 

  
  


_______________

  
  


Lance shut his locker, chewing two fresh pieces of tangerine gum. He, and a good portion of the upperclassmen, were a hot mess today. He woke up feeling like death had come for him. He practically crawled to the bathroom to grab ibuprofen. Despite the painkillers, his head still throbbed. He also had to take the bus this morning, which brought back painful flashbacks of freshman and sophomore year. Hunk was kind of mad at him for leaving him at the party. But he ended up getting a ride home from Shay, so Lance didn’t know why he was complaining. His mom on the other hand was not very pleased with him and the fact that he left his car at someone else's house. She yelled at him the whole morning, which made his headache worse. 

 

So he chewed his gum and willed the painkillers to work better. He hoisted his backpack over his shoulder and turned around and-

 

“Oof!” 

 

“Hey watch it McClain!” 

 

Lance scowled at the person he had run into. Danny Morrison was curling his lips at him glaring into his eyes. His nose was still a little crooked from when Lance had broken it last year. 

 

“Geez man, chill out.” Lance rolled his eyes, trying to brush past him. 

 

Danny squinted his eyes at him, smirking. “So, word on the street is you got an older brother.” 

 

Lance furrowed his eyebrows. Man, this guy’s breath stank. “And?” 

 

Danny laughed, causing Lance to wrinkle his nose. “Man you are dense. Dude, can you get us some booze?” 

 

What the fuck? “No, dude. I’m not gonna use my  _ brother  _ just so you can get drunk. Fuck you man.” Lance pushed past him and shook his head. Lance had already tried that trick with Luis and it hadn’t worked as well as he hoped. 

 

Fuck, he was probably gonna get jumped after school. 

 

*

 

After the events of last night, Lance found himself looking for Keith in each of his classes. He had never really acknowledged him before, only knowing him from his speech at the end of last year when he was running for treasurer. In fact, Lance doesn't even think he voted for him. Or maybe Lance didn’t vote at all? 

 

He sighed and took a seat in his fifth period class. Only one more to go. He was placed in AP Composition this year and he honestly thought it was a mistake. English was his worse subject. He had barely gotten a C last year, and that was only after he had Hunk revise his final essay four times. So the fact that he was in an advanced English class baffled him. 

 

“Can I sit?” 

 

A familiar voice sounded behind him, but now in a much different context. 

 

Lance turned around and saw Keith, back in his sweater a jean combo, waiting for Lance to give the go ahead. Lance wondered if Keith had remembered the similar exchange last night, and was saying it as a joke. 

 

“Yeah, sure man. Do you feel like shit too? Cause I really feel like shit.” 

 

“I’m fine.” He shrugged and scowled a bit, hanging his backpack off the back of his chair and pulling out a red folder and a signed syllabus as well. Of course would have his syllabus ready and signed on the second day of school. 

 

“Oh shit, I forgot about that.” Lance sighed, rummaging around in his backpack. He attempted to smooth out the crinkles that had resulted from him just shoving the syllabus in his backpack the day before. He pulled out a pen and quickly forged his mom’s signature, something he had a lot of practice in. 

 

Wait a minute. 

 

Why hadn’t Keith been in this class yesterday? 

 

“Hey, why weren’t you here yesterday? You were at school.” 

 

Keith thought for a moment. “I was working on ASB stuff.” He shrugged. “First week of school is always busy.” 

 

Lance watched him as he turned his body to listen to their teacher, who was explaining class rules and expectations. Lance didn’t really feel the need to pay attention. He had heard this spiel enough. This year it was emphasized that ‘they were seniors and should know what to do and how to handle things and blah blah blah’. Lance was just hoping he could actually pass this class. 

 

“Lance are you paying attention?” 

 

Lance popped his head up and stared at the teacher. She had her hands on her hips with annoyance. 

 

“Oh, uh yeah. Yeah I’m listening.” He propped his chin on folded hands and looked at her innocently, batting his eyelashes. 

 

She glared back. “Don’t push it McClain. Wouldn’t want detention on the second day of school now would we.” 

 

“No ma’am” He smirked and gave a lazy salute with his left hand. 

 

Keith snorted lightly and muttered, “Wrong hand dumbass.” 

 

Lance gaped at him. “Well I’m not exactly a marine now am I.” 

 

“Well I really don’t think you ever would be. You seem to have an obvious discipline pr-”

 

“Boys, really?” Miss Rivers scolded them. “Lance don’t bother your classmates.”

 

What the heck? Keith was the one that was talking to him! “But I wasn’t the-”

 

“I don’t want to hear it!” She waved her hand at him, signaling that the conversation was over. 

 

Lance leaned back in his chair with a huff. “Asshole.” 

 

“Takes one to know one.” Keith breathed back, writing something down in a small pocket planner. Their teacher must have just announced the due date of something. Lance craned his neck towards Keith’s notebook, trying to make out the words on the tiny notebook, with even tinier handwriting. 

 

“Would you stop that!” Keith hissed, yanking his planner away from Lance. 

 

“I just wanted to see what you wrote down.” Lance rolled his eyes. Man, Keith needed to lighten up. Or more like light up. High Keith was so much better than  _ this  _ Keith. 

 

“Well that’s none of your business.”

 

“Boys! Hall, now!’ Miss Rivers pointed at the both of them sharply, flicking her wrist towards the door. 

 

Lance rolled his eyes as he grabbed his bag casually, whistling his way out the door while Keith followed slowly, grumbling behind him. 

 

Once the door was closed Keith growled, “This is all your fault you know.”

 

Lance laughed. This was great. This was just great. “My fault?! You’re the one who was being all pissy!” 

 

“Oh my God!” Keith ran a hand through his hair.” You’re such a pompous ass! You just think you’re so cool and dangerous because you smoke and have an eyebrow piercing. That doesn’t give you a free pass to be a douche.” 

 

Lance resisted the urge to fiddle with the two small balls of metal that sat on either side of his left eyebrow. “Fuck you man. You’re more fun when you’re high.” 

 

“What?” 

 

Lance turned his head. Keith’s dark eyebrows were knit together, his neck rotated and cocked slightly to the side. 

 

Did he not… did he not remember? “You know, last night?” 

 

“Yeah, and?” Keith flicked his eyebrows up, prompting Lance to elaborate. 

 

Lance really hope Keith was joking with him. “Dude, you gave me a ride home.” 

 

“I did?” Keith’s eyes moved back and forth slowly, as if trying to retrace his steps in his head. 

 

Now Lance was kinda peeved. “Yeah! Dude we smoked together and talked for like, an  hour! I called your brother hot?” 

 

“Oh my god, gross.” Keith wrinkled his nose. “Are you sure? I mean I remember smoking, but-” His voice trailed off, his eyes still shifting around in his head. 

 

Wow, yeah he really didn't remember. Had Keith ever smoked before? Or drank before? He seemed to take it well the night before, and Lance didn’t remember him coughing or anything, which is usually what people did when it was their first time. Lance was a little hurt that Keith didn’t remember anything. He had had a nice time last night. 

 

“Stop looking at me like that.” Keith snapped, turning his head away. His bangs had moved over his eyes, making him look even madder. 

 

“I’m not looking at you.” Lance leaned against the opposite wall. When he noticed he was copying Keith’s stance, he dropped his arms and shoved them in his jean pockets. He focused on chewing his gum, moving it around in his mouth and popping it. Move around. Flatten. Pop. Move. Flatten. Pop. Move. Flatten-

 

“Oh my god would you stop that!” Keith cried out, flinging his hands out quickly to the sides. 

 

Lance blinked at him. “Geez, chill out man. Sorry.” 

 

Keith flinched slightly, biting his lip. He moved back against the wall. Lance watched his lips move in small movements, like he was talking to himself, but trying to make it so Lance didn’t notice. His eyes were closed tight, but not enough to make too many wrinkles around his eyes. He was breathing so deeply Lance could see his chest move out and in, slowly and in beat. 

 

“You okay man?” 

 

Keith kept his eyes closed. “Lance, please just shut up.” 

 

His voice was much calmer and almost comforting. It was a complete 180 from his previous tone and it made Lance feel unnerved but at the same time, cool his own anger. Lance shut up and slunk down to the ground, resting his arms on his knees and picking at the loose threads hanging from the hem of his shirt. 

 

The 4 arpeggio chimes of the bell interrupted their brief silence and they were called back into the classroom. Miss Rivers had them sit in chairs in front her desk, while she stayed standing over them. 

 

“You boys are lucky I'm not going to give you lunch detention.” She glared down at them, lips pursed. “Lance, I don't appreciate this kind of behavior and you will be wise to keep your record as clean as you can this year.” 

 

Lance dropped his head and twirled his bracelets around his wrist. Why did she call him out first! He knew he wasn't the most respectful student, but he wasn't the only person guilty here. 

 

“And Keith, I would expect better of you. As a representative of this school and a senior on your way to valedictorian, you need to watch yourself.” 

 

Keith was gnawing on the inside of his cheek, threatening to wear a hole straight through it. He understood why Keith would be so nervous. That kid never got in trouble. Lance may have been bitter about the whole thing, but he didn’t really care that much. As long as his mom didn’t know, he was fine. 

 

“Now, go get to class.” She waved them away and returned to her desk. 

 

Lance grabbed his backpack quickly, prepared to leave fast so he didn’t have the possibility of walking beside Keith to his next class. Keith made it easy, as he slowly collected his backpack, probably sensing that Lance didn’t want to walk with him. Or maybe Keith just didn’t want to either. Lance wasn’t sure how he felt about that… 

 

*

 

His last class was as boring as the rest, and he hated that he had to end the day with math. He knew he didn’t have to search for Keith in this class. He probably took like, Calculus 3000 or something equally advanced. Lance was only in pre-calc and he was perfectly fine with that. He had asked his counselor if he could just take algebra again and still count it as his senior math credit, but he said that he should move forward with his learning and what not. As usual, math was the only homework he had in the first week of school. And while it was just a basics review worksheet, he was dreading having to do it. After spending an entire summer sleeping in until eleven in the morning and having nothing to do but have fun and your standard daily chores, getting back into the routine of school was a challenge. Like working out after you haven't in months, and you immediately regret it the day after when every part of your body is screaming at you to just lay down and sleep. Not that Lance had ever intentionally worked out but... yeah, it was a bit like that. 

 

He was not looking forward to taking the bus again, and he was gonna have to beg his mother to give him a ride to Lotor house so he could pick up his car. Or maybe… 

 

He pulled out his phone and sent Lotor a quick message through snapchat. A cold breeze worked its way across the parking lot and Lance shivered. He hated winter and would much rather have it be summer all the time. He leaned against the building, waiting for Lotor to reply and hoping he would before the buses left. He didn’t want to be stranded here because there was no way his mom was gonna leave work to come pick him up. She would just scold him and tell him he shouldn't have even gone to the party last night. He checked his phone again. No reply. 

 

“Well if it isn’t Mr. McClain.” 

 

Shit. 

 

Lance swallowed, part of him preparing to throw fists, another prepared to take one. Danny was standing in front of two of his other friends from the wrestling team. He swore these guys had IQ’s lower than their ages. 

 

“Danny.” Lance nodded, adding in a smirk. He really wasn’t feeling up to getting beat up today, so maybe he could play everything off cool. 

 

But Lance knew that rarely worked out for him. 

 

“You change your mind on getting us some booze?” He slowly rubbed his palms together, cracking his fingers back one at a time. 

 

“I already gave you my answer.” Lance clenched his jaw as he watched Danny form his hand into a fist at his side. Lance tilted his head down slightly, hoping that if he couldn’t react fast enough, that his fist would land on the side of his head, rather than his jaw or nose. He was sure Danny would aim for his nose. 

 

“You sure about that?”

 

Lance had to force himself not to take a step back as Danny took one forward, sliding his adidas across the dirt. 

 

Apparently Lance didn’t answer quick enough because like a rocket, Danny’s fist was thrown towards him and Lance put his hands up. His first landed on his arm with a smack. Lance stumbled back a step as he blinked, prepared to send one Danny’s way. He reared back, hand clenched but his arm was suddenly pinned down as his friends grabbed his arms, throwing him to the ground. Dust and dirt flew into the air around him, getting into his eyes and making them water. A boot connected with his stomach, and Lance scrambled to get to his feet, trying to ignore his now aching body. He wrapped his hands around Danny’s legs and yanked him down, his ass landing on the ground as he cursed. Another boot to the stomach. Lance rolled quickly and crawled away, pushing himself to his feet. Danny was just getting himself off the ground, while the other two looked to him for directions. 

 

“Beat him up you idiots!” Danny growled. 

 

The one with the shaved head lunged first and Lance cracked a punch across his face. He groaned, clutching his face while the other one tried to push Lance back to the ground, shoving his fist into Lance’s ribs. Lance was starting to feel it now, the dull ache that began to spread through his bones, as he wrapped his arms around his neck and tried to knee him in the crotch. Based on the high pitched breathy noise that escaped him, Lance was sure he had got him in the goods. 

 

Then Lance was on the ground, staring at the dirt. The air in his lungs left him as a powerful leg kicked him to the ground. Lance’s eyes watered even more, obscuring his vision. He didn’t need to see to tell that Danny was now standing over him, repeatedly punching him in the face and ribs. Lance couldn’t breath and he felt warm blood on his face being spread around by Danny’s fist. 

 

With one more swift kick in the stomach, it was over and Danny was wiping his knuckles on the inside of his jacket. 

 

“That’s for the nose McClain.” He spat beside Lance’s head. “And for just bein’ a little bitch.” 

 

His two friends that that was funny as shit, as they laughed through their pain. 

 

The other two hobbled off with him, leaving Lance clutching his stomach in the dirt. His entire face ached and so did his torso. God, his mom was gonna kill him. He tried to sit up, but his vision began to blur as he did along with a pain rushing to his brain, so he laid back down, grateful for the semi-soft dirt beneath him. He took a breath and winced at the sharpness that bloomed in his ribs. Shit, if he broke a rib that was gonna cost money to get fixed. Money that they didn’t have. 

 

“Woah are you alri- Lance?” 

 

Lance blinked above him, but the sun was right in his eyes. Then a person blocked it out, casting a shadow over his eyes. 

 

“Hnng,” he groaned. Maybe this person would find it in their heart to get Lance a washcloth and maybe call Hunk for him. Lance didn’t know what had happened to his backpack in the middle of the fight. Man he was kind of tired. Maybe he could just close his eyes for a sec and-

 

‘Hey, hey stay awake!” Cold hands patted his cheeks. Damn, that kind of stung. He tried to blink away the blurriness in his eyes. Those cold hands were still on his cheeks. “Lance, hey can you hear me?” 

 

“Hmhm.” He felt blood dribble out of his mouth. 

 

“Can you get up? We should get you to the nurse-”

 

“Hmno, no nurse.” He mumbled. If they went to the nurse, she would notify the principal who would notify his mom. He didn’t need her to stress out anymore. 

 

The person sighed, hands falling away from his face. Then they were on his bare stomach, lifting his shirt up. “Shit Lance, what did you do?” Their voice was barely above a whisper. “Come on then, let’s try and stand up.” 

 

He rolled Lance a bit, and he responded with a groan. Every time he moved it felt like someone was punching him in the ribs again, but with like, spikes on their knuckles. 

 

They managed to get Lance to sit up, and Lance’s vision was beginning to clear. He looked over and saw- 

 

“Keith?” 

 

He was staring at Lance with a tight expression, worrying a hole in his cheek. The cuff of his sweater now had a bit of blood soaking into it, turning the black fabric into a deep maroon color. 

 

“Come on, let’s stand up.” Keith stood up from his crouch, and grabbed under Lance’s arms. His entire body screamed at him as Keith lifted him from the ground. Lance groaned, and leaned into Keith, whose arm was still wrapped around him. Keith grunted, adjusting Lance against his side. Lance could taste blood in his mouth, coming from his lip and nose. 

 

“You gotta give me your address.” Keith said as they slowly made their way to the student parking lot. He must have grabbed Lance’s backpack for him, because Keith was tossing it in the backseat. Keith managed to get Lance situated on the passenger seat before he made his way around to the driver’s side. “Don’t get blood on the seats, this is my foster parents car.” He said before driving out of the parking lot. Keith followed the directions his phone gave him, after Lance had told him his address. Lance was having a bit of deja vu, only this time he felt like shit instead of blissfully numb from weed. God, he could go for some weed right now. 

 

“I’m not gonna give you weed.” Keith scowled, turning into his neighborhood.  

 

Lance chuckled weakly, not wanting to aggravate his already aching lungs. He really needed to be careful about what he was thinking. “You probably don’t even have any, Mr. Goody-two-shoes.” His own raspy voice surprised him. He swallowed the excess saliva and blood in his mouth, shivering at the thickness of it as it slid down his throat. 

 

Keith muttered something, but Lance couldn’t really hear it. His ears were still ringing at an unpleasant pitch. 

 

When they pulled up to Lance’s house, Keith walked around to open Lance’s door and help him out. 

 

“Such a gentleman.” He doubt he looked smug, with his swollen eye, obscuring his vision as time went on.  

 

“Yeah, yeah whatever.” Keith rolled his eyes, and hoisted Lance out of the car and helped him hobble to the front door. “Is anyone home?” 

 

Lance had to think about it for a second. The twins would be at daycare. It was Thursday so Lily had piano practice. His mom was working at the clinic and Luis had classes at the local university. 

 

“No, uh, but my key is in my back pocket.” He tried to reach back but  _ shit  _ that hurt too. Any twisting or stretching in his torso left him with more pain erupting inside his ribs. 

 

“I got it.” Keith muttered, reaching into Lance’s back pocket and grabbing the house key as quickly as possible. 

 

“Shouldn’t you take me on a date first.” Lance chuckled to himself. 

 

“I will drop you.” Keith warned him with a scowl, but his cheeks were flushed pink. 

 

He slid the key into the lock, while Lance leaned against the side of the house, and pushed open the door. Lance could still smell the remnants of cinnamon pancakes from breakfast and pumpkin spice from the wax melting in the heated bowl in the living room. He watched as Keith took everything in in one sweep of the eyes, before he guided Lance to the kitchen table and set him in the chair. 

 

“Where do you keep first aid stuff?” Keith asked, going back to close the door. 

 

“In the bathroom down the hall, cupboard underneath the sink.” Lance slumped into the chair, ready for a nap. 

 

“Hey, don’t fall asleep.” Keith snapped, before warily walking down the hallway to the bathroom. 

 

Lance still couldn’t believe that Keith actually drove him home and now was getting him first aid supplies? They literally had a fight not two hours ago. Well, not physical fight. Lance was the only victim of that. 

 

Keith came back with the small green basket full of supplies. He set it on the counter and began taking out things one by one. His lips were pushed to one side as he chewed on his cheek again. 

 

“Keith, you really don’t have to do this. I’m fine, really.” 

 

“Yeah sure.” Keith rolled his eyes. “You just got the crap kicked out of you. You are not fine.” 

 

Lance huffed, and settled back into the chair. Then Keith was up in his face, eyes looking him over, fingers lightly touching his wounds on his face. 

 

“Your cheek is cut, and so is your lip. But it's mostly just bruises. Where do you keep your ice packs?”

 

“In the pantry.” Lance deadpanned. “Where do you think stupid.”

 

Keith scowled again, his face pinching and his bottom lip pouting out slightly. Lance decided that Keith didn't have a resting bitch face, but he sure did scowl a lot.

 

He could hear Keith washing his hands and he returned with two ice packs, one with frog face on it, the other with a puppy. “Nice ice packs.” Keith smirked, before sitting in the chair beside Lance’s adjusting it to face him. 

 

“My sisters picked them out.” Lance chuckled, trying not to wince. 

 

“How old are they?” Keith grabbed the yellow tube of neosporin and put a small amount on the tip of his index finger. 

 

“The twins are seven and my other sister is fourteen.” Lance watched Keith stick the tip of his tongue out as he rubbed the paste carefully on the cut on Lance’s cheek. Lance shivered at the coolness of it. 

 

“Sorry.” Keith mumbled, wiping his finger on Lance’s shirt. 

 

“Hey!” 

 

“Well you’re gonna wash it anyways. You’ve got blood all over you.” Keith tore open a bandaid and carefully placed it diagonally across Lance’s cheekbone. He grabbed one of the ice packs and told Lance to hold it against his jaw. 

 

“Um, how do you’re ribs feel?” Keith asked slow and cautious. 

 

Lance took an experimental deep breath, which was an immediate mistake. “Hurt.” He wheezed. 

 

“Um can you take your shirt off? You should probably ice them, hopefully they’re just bruised and not broken.” 

 

Lance could tell that Keith was struggling with asking him to take his shirt off. Lance wasn't really sure why. He was sure Keith was familiar with seeing guys with their shirts off in the locker room after gym. 

 

Lance moved his arms to lift the hem of his shirt up, but had to stop halfway through. Keith must have sense his pain and helped him the rest of the way, avoiding Lance’s eyes the whole time. 

 

“Jesus, they really worked you over.” Keith said after getting the full picture of Lance's bruised torso. The fresh red bruises were painted across his torso, mostly below hs chest. A few of them had already started to turn shades of purple. They might have been beautiful if it weren't for the fact that they were injuries. They actually kind of matched the colorful tattoo that wrapped around Lance’s bicep. 

 

Keith got up one more time and grabbed a towel from the counter, wrapping the second ice pack in the fabric and handing it to Lance. “Icing it is all you can really do. And don’t like, lift any heavy stuff for the next few days.” 

 

Lance held the cold pack against the worst part of his ribs and jerked at the sensation. “Thanks Keith.” 

 

“Uh, yeah, sure thing.” Keith stood up and adjusted his sweater. “Um, I’ll just go then.” 

 

Lance smirked at his stuttering. “Yeah, thanks man. I’d probably still be laying there if you hadn’t dragged me home.” 

 

Keith gave him a tight smile, before saying a last quick goodbye, closing the front door behind him. 

 

It took a few minutes, but Lance managed to make it upstairs. He carefully settled into bed, adjusting the ice pack on his ribs. He remembered the feeling of Keith’s gentle fingers on his face, the tip of his pink tongue poking out in concentration. He was still shocked at the fact that Keith had actually driven him home and taken care of him. He barely knew the guy. They were nothing alike. Keith was the quiet type. A _good_ student. On the road to possibly getting a full ride to college. Lance was gonna have to end up going to community college and was probably gonna have to pay for it himself. After his parents divorce in his sophomore year, the family funds had spiraled. He knew his mom always said they were fine, but he saw her staying up late at night, bills laid out in front of her as she rubbed her eyes behind her glasses. His mama was the strongest person he knew. She fought for custody of all five of her kids in court, although Luis was already legally an adult, and won. Lance wasn’t surprised by that though. 

 

His mom worked every day except Sunday, working at the clinic during the week, and then waitressing sometimes in the evenings. Luis had gotten a part time job for a while, but mama had made him quit because she wanted him to focus on school. It was the same for Lance. She wouldn't let him get a job. “You just spend time being a kid,” she would say, ruffling his hair softly. 

 

He hated that his mom had to work so hard. He _hated_ that his dad decided he didn’t love her anymore. He hated that he couldn't do anything about it. He hated that he had become such a problem child. His mom already had so much to deal with. She didn’t _need_ to be worrying over whether or not her son was getting into fights, or if she could pay for this months physical therapy for Lily, or the twins daycare facility. 

 

He closed his eyes and tried to ignore the ache in his bones, wondering about Keith and his mom and his sisters and how the hell this year was gonna play out. 

 


	2. Favors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith lends a ride and Lance is still bitter

Chapter 2 

It isn’t until the following week on Monday that his ribs have started to feel a little better. His mother had given him the scolding of a lifetime, telling him that there were consequences for everything and that he shouldn’t have broken that boy’s nose in the first place and blah blah blah. What might have been worse was her constant hovering. Making sure he had drank enough water that day. Making sure he changed the bandaid on his face. Making sure he iced his ribs. Took painkillers. He was tired of her constant nursing. Why could she just leave work, at work? She did enough taking care of people during the day. There were still really nasty looking bruises of all shades of the rainbow covering his torso, but the cuts on his face were now only dried scabs that threatened to flake off. 

But his injuries weren’t what was bothering him. 

When he came back to school the day after his little bonding moment with Keith, he waited for that familiar voice to ask “can I sit?” Instead he watched as Keith walked with purpose to a desk on the other side of the room. 

So yeah. Lance was a little butt hurt. He had thought maybe he had made a friend that wasn’t Hunk. He thought that maybe Keith could help with his AP Lit homework and then they could hang out afterwards. Cause he found that he actually liked to hang out with him. 

And so another week of school passed by, and Keith still refused to sit by him. At one point Lance almost got up from the seat he had already chosen and move beside Keith. Only there were no open chairs near him and that would be kind of weird for Lance to drag his own chair across the room just so he could sit by Keith. 

Damn why was he so bothered by this? 

*

“Why are you so mopey?” Hunk asked, dipping another french fry into the small container of ketchup. 

They had driven off campus for lunch during the third week of school to the Dairy Queen down the road. And by lunch, that meant french fries and milkshakes. 

“I’m not mopey!” Lance waved his milkshake around, causing Hunk to flinch away. 

“Yeah no. You are definitely hung up over something. Did your dad call you again?” 

“No, no it's’ not that.” 

Every now and then, Lance’s dad would call him and ask if they could get dinner and catch up. Lance rarely answered. This was the man that tore their family apart and he wasn’t about to go get burgers with him. He pushed the thoughts from his head, shoving them out his ear as he focused back on Hunk. One problem at a time Lance, one at a time. 

“Then what is it? Did you start dating someone and then get dumped? Cause sometimes that happens so fast that even I don’t hear about it.” 

This was also kind of true, and Lance threw a french fry at his friend. “No, I didn't get dumped. It’s just- well I kind of hung out with Keith at the party a couple weeks ago and then-”

“Wait,” Hunk put a hand up. “Keith as in “ASB man, Mr. 4.0” Keith?” 

“Yes Hunk.” Lance rolled his eyes. “Let me finish. Anyways. So we hung out at the party, got high and what not and then-”

“Oh my god did you guys hook up?” Hunk leaned forward eagerly, almost dipping his elbow into the ketchup. 

“No! Stop interrupting me!” 

“Sorry, sorry. Go on.” Hunk waved him on as he shoved two more fries in his mouth to distract himself from wanting to talk. A few days ago Lance had begun the process of quitting smoking. Again. He had been so irritable that when he saw a sophomore trying to pull a kids pants down, he literally picked him up and slammed him against the wall. He was glad no teachers were around, so he escaped a detention for that one, but now he had an entire group of sophomores that hated/feared him. Lance didn’t know if he liked that. He had also been snapping at Hunk more, and he felt bad every time he did. 

Lance continued once he was sure Hunk was ready to stay silent. “So we hung out. Got high. His brother drove me home, who is actually the guy that did my tattoo but that’s another thing.” 

Hunk looked like he wanted to interrupt him again, but caught the cautionary look Lance gave him and stayed quiet. 

“So the next day, you know I told you that Danny beat me up and Keith was the one that found me. He drove me home and everything and even like, did some first aid shit on me. Anyways, I totally thought it was like this cool bonding moment, but he hasn’t said a word to me since.”

“Maybe he just doesn’t like you.” Hunk shrugged. 

“Geez Hunk, okay.” Lance pouted, sipping his vanilla milkshake in defeat. 

Hunk began to laugh, his broad shoulders shaking up and down. “I’m kidding man. He probably just isn’t into having lots of friends? I mean he really only ever hangs out with Pidge.” 

If Lance was in a cartoon, a lightbulb would have sprouted from his head. “Oh my god Hunk you’re a genius! You hang out with Pidge don’t you!” 

Hunk stared at him with wide eyes, lips hovering over the red straw. “Uh, yeah sometimes. Usually just during robotics club.” 

“Well then you can ask them about Keith! Ha! This is perfect!” Lance beamed at his newfound discovery. 

Hunk slouched his head onto the table with a long groan. “Lance I can’t do your snooping for you.” 

Lance gasped dramatically, clutching his chest with his hand. “It’s not snooping. I’m just gathering intel on the guy.” 

“Yeah, it still sounds creepy.” 

Lance laid back on the bench, noisily sucking up the last bit of his milkshake. “Do you think I did something wrong? Like, maybe he thinks I’m a bad influence? He did see the aftermath of me getting the crap kicked out of me, which in my defense wasn’t really my fault and I probably would have done better if there weren't three of them. I mean I’m also trying to quit smoking again so maybe that-”

“Lance!” 

Lance lifted his head at the sound of Hunk yelling at him. 

“You know what I think? I think you're overthinking this.” 

Lance sulked, heaving his shoulders forward. “Yeah?”

“I think eventually he’ll come around, but he’s just not as outgoing as you are.” 

“Yeah, I guess.” 

Despite Hunk’s soft tone, Lance still wasn’t fully convinced. 

____________ 

 

October rolled around and the air was officially cold. Lance ditched his cut off tank tops for baggy black long sleeves and his jean jacket, fresh with another patch that came in the mail a few days ago. There was still a bandaid on his thumb covering a burn that the iron had so graciously given him. 

It was only October and Lance already had a C in AP Lit. They had only had three assignments and he already had a C. 

It was only October and Lance already had been assigned a tutor. 

He didn’t think having a C was too crazy, but his counselor had insisted that he get a tutor to help him raise his grade. Something about it being his senior year and how he shouldn’t be slacking. What frustrated Lance was that he wasn’t slacking. He was actually putting a fair amount of effort into his assignments, but he just wasn’t getting the result he wanted. What made it even worse was that someone his age or even younger was going to be tutoring him in a subject that was supposed to be easy. It’s freaking english, the language he speaks, and yet he was still crap at writing papers and analyzing texts. 

Lance leaned against the door of the library, lazily scrolling up his screen with the side of his thumb. He wasn’t really looking at the pictures on his feed, but he just needed something to do with his hands. He was supposed to be meeting his tutor at the library right after school, but they weren’t there yet. What kind of tutor showed up late? 

His knee bounced slightly, shaking the rest of his body as well as he flicked his eyes up and down the halls. Most everyone had already left, or were in their designated rooms for after school clubs. He hated waiting for things. Waiting for test scores back. Waiting for his sister while she hogged the bathroom. Waiting for his dad to stop being a pain in his ass. 

God he needed a cigarette. He had restricted himself to two a day, and he had already had one before school, and then one at lunch. He didn’t even have any more because Hunk had been holding all of them hostage for him. He popped in two pieces of tangerine gum instead and shoved the wrappers in his pocket. 

He had opened up instagram for the twentieth time before he heard the dull thud of heeled shoes on the carpet and the swishing of a jacket. 

His tutor rounded the corner and oh shit it was Allura. 

After his many attempts to get Allura to go on a date with him last year, he had finally backed off and let her go. It only took a carton of double fudge rocky road ice cream and cuddles from Hunk to get over it. Hunk kept telling him ‘you guys weren’t even dating Lance.’ Lance was still heartbroken. 

“Lance hi! Sorry I’m late, I had to chat with Miss Wixom.” Her smile reached her crystal blue eyes, framed by neat strands of silver hair that were separated from the rest of her massive ponytail. “We probably won’t need to stay long today, as I just want to get an idea of when it will be best to meet and what you want to focusing on.”

Her formal speech intimidated him, and he tried to not cower at her professional stance. “Yeah, that’s cool.” 

He followed her into the library and she took out a blue folder with her name printed in neat cursive on the front. Shit, she was gonna revise his work in cursive. For Lance, reading cursive was like trying to figure skate. With his dyslexia, the words swam across the page, switching letters without even letting him know first. He would have appreciated a little heads up, but you can’t have everything you want. 

She opened up the folder and took out a sheet of paper. Her nails were painted a soft blue, almost matching the folder. 

“So, what assignment are you working on right now?” Her pen was poised carefully over the first line. 

Lance didn’t know if he should get the assignment out, or if he should just tell her? He should get it out. No, but that’s gonna take time. She said this wasn’t gonna take long. How long is not long? Ten minutes? Shit, was he supposed to pick up the twins from daycare today? Wait no, they were sick so mom stayed home. Wait, it was Tuesday, that meant he needed to take Lily to physical therapy at 3:00. Okay, it’s only 2:15, he should be fine. It only took like 15 minutes to get to the physical therapy center. But what if she wasn’t ready when he got home? What if- 

“Lance?” 

His head snapped up so quickly, he felt an electric pain in his neck. He winced and rubbed at it with his hand. “Sorry, uh-” He stopped and redirected his thoughts to her previous question. Wait- “What did you ask?” 

She smiled at him patiently, only a small ounce of concern laced in the slight upturn of her eyebrows.

“I ask what you’re working on in class? For AP Literature? 

Right, now he remembered. “Uh, we’re working on the article analysis thing, it’s due in like a month.”

She nodded as she wrote something down probably what he had just said. “Okay, so do you have anything started?” 

“I made a couple notes on the article she gave us.” 

She smiled again, her eyes reassuring him. “That’s a good start. Next time we meet we can go over the article and annotate it a bit more.” 

More writing. Lance liked that she started each point off with a star, instead of his usual sloppy bullet point or dash mark. 

“So, when would be the best time to meet? Preferably once a week. It seems to help students the most.” 

He got out his phone and opened his calendar. Every day was blank. Fuck. He still hadn’t transferred everything from the family calendar to his phone.

The family calendar hung on the outside of the pantry in their kitchen and it was law. It had no nice picture of sunsets or mountains on the top because the boxes took up the entire thing. The calendar itself was enormous and incredibly organized. Each family member had a designated color. Lance was blue. He had to fight for that color over his sister Mariana. 

Just thinking about making any plans without consulting the family calendar first made his palms sweat. 

“Um, can I like text you once I get home?” 

“Yes, of course. Here let me give you my phone number. We’ll need to correspond anyways.” She pulled out her phone and pressed her thumb to the home button. Lance watched her open her contacts and- woah her phone case! 

Before he could tell his hands to stop, he was reaching forward to tip the to of her phone upwards so he could get a better look. “Holy shit your case is so cool!” 

She jumped back a little, but gave a knowing chuckle. “Yeah I get that a lot.” 

The case consisted of thick clear plastic encasing the phone. Stuck between the panes it looked like purple glitter melting down the length of the phone. Shiny metallic stars were mixed in with the smaller grains of sparkles, bunching together and slowly making their way to the bottom. 

Allura smirked, and tipped her phone upside down so Lance could watch it all over again. There was something calming about it, grounding. 

“Man, I could watch that all day.” He leaned back, realizing how close he had scooted forward. 

“Yeah, it helps me calm down when I get stressed,” She hummed, opening her phone back up and handing it to Lance so he could add himself to her contacts. He typed in his number and turned the phone over, tilting it upside down again to watch the slow waterfall of glitter and stars. 

Once every speck had clumped at the bottom he blushed and handed it back to her. “Sorry.” 

She laughed again and smiled, tucking her phone in the pocket of her light pink bomber jacket. “Don’t be. I’ll text you, so you have my number and then just let me know what days and times work for you and then we can go from there.” 

She began to put the folder back in her backpack, and Lance realized that they were done. 

“That was fast.” He scooped up his backpack, swinging it over his shoulder smoothly. He had been so entranced by Allura’s phone, that he had let down his guard. He had a reputation to uphold. 

Allura just smiled again. “I hope you have a good day Lance, I’ll text you later today okay!” She waved goodbye and strutted off confidently out of the library, not really bothering for Lance to catch up. 

Lance had fifteen minutes to get home so he could take Lily to her physical therapy appointment, so he walked quickly to his car, tossing his backpack into the backseat. He heard the crumple of the pile of wrappers that were beginning to build up on the floor. He jammed the key in and turned it harshly, only to hear a ‘click click click’ instead of the usual choppy purr of the engine. 

“No, no no no no fuck!” He turned it again and again, smacking his left palm on the wheel. As if that would make his car start working. 

Click click click. 

He groaned and slammed his head against the center of the wheel. He startled himself as the honk blared loudly. He jolted up, looking around in embarrassment. His chest felt tight as he hurriedly opened his phone to check the time. 2:30. Shit. He needed to be home in ten minutes to pick up Lily. He tried to start his car again. 

Click click click click. 

“Fuck! Shit!” He cursed again as he slid out of his car and slammed the door. 

“What’d the car ever do to you?” 

Lance looked over the top of the faded blue roof, which didn’t require any effort, and saw Keith’s fluffy black hair tied back in a ponytail. An eyebrow was raised in concern, but the expression on his face was blank. 

Lance scowled. “My car won’t start asshole. And I need to get home to pick up my sister.” 

Keith’s face went through a subtle series of emotions. “Oh, uh, do you need a ride?” 

Lance scowled again. Why did Keith of all people have to be the one to walk up to him. He would literally take anyone else. 

“You’re offering me a ride? Really?” It came off just as bitter as he wanted it to. 

Keith leaned back. “Woah, man what’s your problem?”

Lance couldn’t believe this. “What’s my problem? What’s your problem?!” 

“I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.” Keith rolled his eyes. His knuckles were white as they gripped the straps of his backpack. 

“Don’t know- wha- you haven't said a word to me in a month?” 

“So what?” Keith’s voice carried over the roof of the car, and the tension in his voice made Lance fear he might leap over the car and attack him. 

Lance didn’t even want to be having this conversation right now. “Whatever man. If you don’t know how to fix a car then you can just leave me alone alright?” 

He opened his phone again and called his brother. 

“Hey, what’s up?”

“Luis, can you take Lily to her physical therapy appointment?” Lance hated how shaky his voice was. 

He heard his brother sigh through the phone. “Lance I’m sorry, but I’ve gotta meet my group to work on our project in like ten minutes.”

Lance swallowed. “Oh okay.”

“Why can’t you take her?” 

“Oh, uh it’s my car. But um-” His eyes glanced over to Keith, who was standing by and trying to pretend he wasn’t listening to Lance’s phone call. “I uh, I think I’ll be able to make it though.” 

“You sure? You could always call dad-”

“No.” Lance snapped firmly. “No I can’t.” 

“Lance come on.” His brother chided him. 

“I’ve gotta go bye.” Lance huffed. He wished he could throw his phone on the ground but then he would be without a phone. 

Instead he stuffed it in his pocket and looked back up at Keith, who was busy retrying his hair. His bangs hung over his eyes, making him look even more brooding. 

“Um-” Lance cleared his throat, letting out a shaky breath. “I uh, I need to take my sister to her physical therapy appointment, and there’s no extra car at home, so- god I know this is a lot to ask for but-”

“Yeah, I’ll drive you” Keith shrugged, jerking his head to the side. “My car is over here.” 

Lance felt the worry flow out of him as he grabbed his backpack from the back seat, and jogged over to Keith’s car. 

Well… truck. 

Lance wondered if he was gonna be able to hoist Lily up into that thing. He walked closer to it and realized- 

“How many seats does this thing have?” 

Keith was just opening his door and he closed it, looking at Lance through the window. 

Lance huffed and opened the passenger door. “I said, how many seats does this have?” He looked into the truck, where there were only 3 spots open on the bench seat. 

“Technically two, but three if you squeeze.” Keith twisted the key and the engine rumbled to life. Lance slammed the door and pulled himself up into the vehicle. The seats were tearing at the sides, the leather looking like it was time to be thrown out. 

“Well you might have to help me get my sister up in here.” He scowled, buckling the lap belt over his thighs. “Is this thing even safe?” 

Keith gunned the gas, sending Lance’s head back to smack into the glass behind him. His head throbbed as he was thrown back forward as Keith came to a stop sign. 

Lance looked over at Keith, who was gripping the wheel. 

“What the hell is wrong with you!” 

“Shut up or I’ll do it again. I’m giving you a ride, so zip it.” The hint of a smirk played at Keith’s lips, though his eyes were fiery. 

Lance didn’t argue, although he was running through the idea of starting one in his head. Where he won of course. 

*

The drive to Lance’s house was quick and silent. When they pulled up, Lance wasted no time hurrying out of the truck, taking extra care to slam the door as hard as he could. He jogged up to his door, unlocking it, and bursting in. 

“Lily! I’m here let’s go!” 

“I’m right here stupid.” She huffed. His sister was poised in the kitchen chair and was hoisting herself up to her feet, her arms slipping through the loops in her crutches. “Why are you late?” She already had her bag slung around her shoulder as she maneuvered past him and towards the door. 

“Sorry, my car wouldn’t start.” He sighed, as he turned right back around and followed her out the door. 

“Well how the heck are we getting to- oh.” She stopped, taking in the rusted red truck in their driveway and the boy leaning against the front hood. 

“That’s Keith.” Lance said, trying to keep it as neutral sounding as possible. He wasn’t about to piss Keith off before he was gonna drive his sister. 

He approached the truck with Lily, who was not so subtly checking Keith out. Lance elbowed her in the side, and opened the door for her. 

“Alright, I’ll take these,” He gestured to her crutches. “And then lean against the edge of the seat, and I’ll lift you up.” 

She nodded, handing him the two crutches, where he gently leaned them against the side of the truck. He could see Keith lingering on the other side. He looked torn from staying out, or getting in the truck. 

Lily leaned against the back of the seat, positioning her hands behind her, ready to hoist herself up with the help of her brother. Lance counted up, placing his hands under her biceps, and on three he lifted her into the truck, where she moved her legs inside as well. 

“You good?” He asked, letting out a breath. She nodded, buckling up the lap belt. Lance still wasn’t convinced those belts were safe. 

Lance laid her crutches down in the bed of the truck and prayed they wouldn’t fly out while they were driving. He slid in beside Lily, squished against the door, and Keith climbed in as well, his face void of any emotion. That wasn’t new. 

“So, where is this place?” 

“It’s in the complex by the Fred Meyers on Lincoln.” Lance said. 

He was constantly looking at Lily, making sure she was okay, or if she was uncomfortable. Heck, Lance was uncomfortable. The whole situation made him feel nervous and on edge. It wasn’t that he was afraid that Keith would drive them off the road, but there was a thickness inside the cab of the truck. Lance was sure Keith was still mad at him. Lance wished he didn’t feel guilty because Keith didn’t have to offer to drive them. He could have easily said ‘fuck off’ and left Lance to figure it out himself. But he didn’t. He volunteered for this two and a half hour excursion with Lance, who he hadn’t said a word to in a month, and Lily, who he had never spoken to or seen before in his life. Lance decided that Keith would definitely be the kind of guy to pick up hitchhikers. 

Keith parked in front of the boring grey building after the silent ride. Lance hopped out and grabbed his sister’s crutches from the back of the truck. She managed to slide out on her own, slipping her arms into the crutch cuffs. 

“Should I just hang here?” Keith asked once Lily was out of the truck and making her way to the door. 

Lance looked from Lily to Keith. “Uh, yeah I guess? I’m gonna make sure she’s all good, then I’ll come back out.” 

Keith nodded, and he could hear him turn up the radio once Lance closed the passenger door. The bass faded as he walked into the clean smelling lobby and stood by as Lily checked in and then disappeared behind a grey door. 

He sometimes forgot that his sister was all grown up now. She could do things on her own now. Lance had spent so long taking care of her and making sure she was okay, that he missed the fact that she was getting older. More mature. More intelligent. Oh god, she was gonna start dating soon. Lance could have sworn she was just turning ten and learning how to braid her own hair. 

Fuck now he really wanted a cigarette. That was not gonna happen because a) he was supposed to be quitting and b) he had left his only ones in his car which was still sitting in the high school parking lot. 

Lance sauntered out to the truck, to find Keith leaning his head against the back of the back window, lips moving slightly to the music. Lance could still hear the low bass that played in the cab. Lance knocked on the window before opening the door. Keith lifted his head slowly, like the music had put him in some sort of trance. He gave a little head nod, which Lance took as an invitation to join him again. 

He didn’t know why he was being so cautious around Keith. A part of him still wanted to be friends with the guy, but he wasn’t so sure Keith wanted that too. He could hardly ever tell what Keith wanted. His entire being was so guarded- it was like trying to see through tinted windows at night. 

Lance pulled himself into the truck and closed the door. Keith had turned down the music, it now only a faint noise coming from the radio tucked into the dash display. The silence made Lance want to explode. He dug into his pockets and pulled out his pack of gum. There were three things he kept on his person at all times. His phone, keys (with attached multitool), and his tangerine gum. He unwrapped two pieces and set them in his mouth quietly. He gestured to Keith with the pack. 

“Want a piece?” 

His eyebrows lowered slightly. “What kind?” 

“Tangerine?” 

The other boy’s face contorted, nose wrinkling. “Tangerine? What kind of gum flavour is that?” 

Lance almost cheered in the fact that Keith was initiating a conversation. Even if it was insulting his favorite kind of gum. 

“What do you mean? You trying to say it’s not a real flavour?” Lance couldn’t help the smirk that crawled onto his face. 

Keith rolled his eyes. “I mean, what’s wrong with mint? Or cinnamon?” 

Lance exaggerated a gag, hurling his body forward. “Cinnamon? Of course you would like cinnamon gum.” Of course he already knew Keith chewed cinnamon gum, but he didn’t need to know that. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Keith had turned his body in the seat of the truck to face Lance better, taking up his own posture in the standoff they were having. 

“I mean, cinnamon is the worst flavour of gum.” Lance stated it as a fact. Because it was. 

“What’s so wrong with cinnamon?” Keith was almost pouting, his bottom lip sticking out just a bit more than his upper, taking a similar shape as his cheekbones. 

Lance laughed at his expression. “You’re supposed to enjoy chewing gum, not suffering because you’re mouth is on fire.” 

“Aren’t you supposed to like spicy stuff?” Keith snapped back, eyebrows meeting sharply. 

Lance raised his eyebrows, and the smirk stayed plastered on his face. “And why is that Keith?” Lance had him right where he wanted him, as he watched those dark eyebrows relax then raise, his mouth opening like a pulling the plastic cover off a swimming pool. 

“Oh, no that’s not what- I just meant- I-” He seemed frustrated with the fact that he couldn't get a sentence out. His lips moved, trying to form a sentence, but nothing sounded. He only stopped when he realized Lance was laughing. 

“You- Oh! Oh my god!” Lance clutched his stomach, he too not being able to form a sentence over his giggles. “Were you gonna say it was because I’m hispanic?”

Keith just stared at him, as if he was too afraid to look away. His mouth still hung open. 

“Dude, chill, I’m messing with you.” Lance looked at him, but Keith still looked like he had been scolded. “Hey, I’m joking, yeah?” 

Keith gave him a nod, before sighing and settling back into his original position, head back and eyes closed. Lance continued to look at him, lips pursed in concern. Had he done something wrong? What did he say to make Keith just shut down completely? Fuck. 

And it was like they were back to the start. Keith had distanced himself, despite still being two feet from each other, and Lance was even more confused. Was he just so awful that Keith couldn’t even hold a normal conversation with him? Lance leaned his shoulders against the back of the seat, staring at the front door of the building in front of them. He spotted someone standing on the sidewalk smoking and scrolling through their phone. He fiddled with the bottom of his shirt, trying to tell himself to just stay in the damn truck- 

“I’ll be right back.” Lance quickly hopped out and shut the door. 

He casually sauntered up to the woman who was smoking, blowing the smoke out in no particular direction, clearly not caring whether or not it covered and seeped into her clothes. 

“Hey, can I bum a cig from you?” He almost gagged at the stupid language he had just used. 

She lifted her head and smirked. “You got any cash, kid?” 

He rolled his eyes and pulled out a dollar. “Here.” 

Her smirk reached the crinkles in her eyes, which were surrounded by dark blue eyeshadow. She pulled a white and red pack from her coat pocket and delicately pluck one cigarette from the set with her bright red nails. “Here ya go kid.” 

He muttered a thanks, and asked for a light, in which she handed him her lighter. He flicked it on, igniting the flame and watched as the paper on the end began to slowly flake into ash. He walked off, back in the direction of Keith’s truck and leaned against the aging paint. He put the cigarette to his mouth and breathed in, feeling the familiar soothing and slight burn as he held it in. He blew it out, angling the smoke towards the rest of the parking lot. 

A squeaking noise interrupted his moment of silence. He turned his head and saw the passenger window rolling down slowly. 

“I thought you were supposed to be quitting.” Keith’s monotonous voice sounded from the inside of the truck. 

How the fuck did he know that? 

“What do you care?” Lance bit back. 

“I mean, you’ve gotta have people to call you out on your shit. Hunk’s not here so-”

“Why would you care what Hunk does either? Jeez, just leave me alone.” Lance hunched his shoulders forward and took another drag. At this point he just wanted to go home and forget about Keith. Confusing, nice, stupid, cute, Keith. 

The truck door opened and slammed shut. 

“What is you’re problem with me, huh?” Keith had made his way around the front of the truck and was waving his hands around while he yelled at Lance. 

Lance swore the world was trying to fuck with him. “What? We just talked about this you idiot! You haven’t said a word in like a month. Then you come waltzing in like you’re some hero who’s gonna give me a ride and yeah it’s cool but then you still don’t talk to me!” Lance blew out smoke as agrily as he could. 

“Why is it such a big fucking deal?” Keith’s voice was quieter, like he was trying to calm his words. It looked controlled, but just on the edge of tipping over into anger. 

“I don’t know?! But you’re being an asshole.” 

Keith scoffed. “I’m being an asshole? I drove you home after you got your ass kicked, and now I’m driving you to your sister’s appointment and you don’t seem very grateful.” 

“Well you didn’t have to do all that stuff.” Lance bit back, snarling. He wanted to throw his cigarette at Keith, but that would be a waste of a cigarette. 

“Well I did. So you could at least thank me.” Keith folded his arms over his chest, glaring at Lance through his dark bangs. He kind of looked like he wanted to murder him, which genuinely scared Lance. Like with Allura, Keith had this energy about him that was dangerous. Like live bombs littered everywhere. One wrong step and you’re toast. Everything about him was just on fire. Lance found it funny that his hands had been so cold the day he had driven him home and bandaged him up. 

“Well, thanks then.” Lance muttered. He really didn’t want them to be fighting, but it was almost like they couldn’t help it. Both of them had too much emotion and anger built up inside and they both needed some sort of excuse to get it out. 

Keith’s held his stance, but leaned against the truck. His eyes stared sharply at the ground and his teeth went at his bottom lip mercilessly. 

Lance tossed his finished cigarette to the ground, and twisted the ball of his shoe over it, crushing it into the pavement. Lily should be done any minute now. 

“I’m gonna go see if she’s done.” Lance said as he passed Keith, getting a whiff of the spicy smell that clung to him. 

Keith muttered some form of “okay,” ignoring Lance’s eyes, and made his way back to the driver's, seat. 

 

*

The drive back to Lance’s house was silent. When he got home, the twins were playing in the front yard and his mother was weeding. Lance helped Lily get out of the truck and as soon as she was steady on her crutches, the twins were launching themselves at him, jumping up and down and begging to be spun. 

“Hold on chiquitas, give me a second.” He couldn't help but smile. The girls danced around him as he grabbed his jacket and closed the truck door. 

“Hola mijo!”his mother waved a gloved from her spot on the ground, one hand still placed in the dirt. 

He smiled and waved back before turning to Keith, who had momentarily gotten out of the truck. 

“Thanks again, this was a big help.” Lance said quietly, hoping Keith could sense the sincerity in his voice. 

“Yeah. Sorry for- well you know.” He gestured with his head, rolling it around like he was pointing to the tension between them. 

“S’fine.” Lance shrugged, trying to be as nonchalant as possible. He realized now that he needed to be careful around Keith. He wasn’t someone you could figure out in a day. Lance had met those people and they were the ones who left you in the dust after a week. Quick to know and quick to forget. Keith was like a stray cat. One day he discovers the food you put out for your other cats on the porch and he takes a bit and leaves for a few days. Then slowly he starts coming more often. He starts to make friends with your own cats. Then it suddenly starts hissing at you because you looked at it weird and doesn’t come back for weeks. 

Lance realized that his analogy might have been a little out there, but now all he can think about is Keith being like a cat and all cuddly and sweet and- 

Woah.

Hold on there Lance. 

“-ll see you later.” 

Lance turned and blinked at Keith, who was backing away, eyebrows lifted and waiting for Lance to say something back. 

“Oh, uh yeah. Thanks.” Lance turned as much as he could with two six year olds still jumping at him like puppies. 

Keith gave him, what looked like, a half assed smile as he swung his flipped his keys casually in his hand and pulled himself into the rusted red truck. 

The twins drag him towards the flower beds near their mom. Through their eager chatter he was able to decipher that they had each planted their own flowers. 

“It was very nice of your friend to drive you and Lily.” His mom, continued to pull at the weeds sprouting from the hard dirt. Her yellow gardening gloves were stained brown and so were the knees of her jeans. “How do you know him?” 

Lance spent five seconds looking at the twins purple and white pansy’s and gawk at them dramatically. Based on the loose dirt surrounding the slightly crushed stems, they were probably planted not too long ago. 

“Lance?” 

His mom was looking at him patiently. 

“Sorry, when did you guys plant flowers? Isn’t a little late to plant things?” 

His mom shrugged. “I had to swing by home depot after picking them up from daycare for some things to fix that bathroom door knob and also the screen door to the backyard, and the girls saw the flowers sitting outside and got excited.” 

“Gotcha. They look a little… squished.” Lance smirked, carefully prodding at the leaves. 

“They insisted they plant them on their own.” His mother chuckled. “But, how do you know that kid?” his mother asked again, still as patient as the first time. 

Lance hadn’t realized he had totally skipped over her question. “Oh, he uh… he’s in one of my classes. At school.” He huffed quietly. Of course it would be at school, you dumbass, your mom isn’t stupid. 

Lance was surprised his mother hadn’t run out of patience yet. With five kids, one with a physical disability and another with a mental one, you would think she’d be crazy by now. But she still had the patience and love for each of them. 

“Well that was very nice of him.” She hummed, yanking another weed from the ground and tossing it in the bucket beside her. “Could you start dinner mijo? I want to weed the driveway too.” 

Lance stretches upwards, shaking out his legs. “Yeah sure. What’s with all the yardwork? Isn’t a little late for that? I mean it’s almost winter.” He tried to sound light about it, not wanting to offend his mom’s hard work. 

She shrugged. “Just cleaning up before the cold weather comes.” 

Lance nodded and walked up to the house, cracking his knuckles and- where was the screen door? He pushed open the wooden door the usually sat behind the shitty framed mesh door and- why wasn’t it squeaking? 

“Did you fix the door too?” He called back to his mom. 

“Oh, yeah! I was just getting tired of that squeak.” 

Lance frowned. The squeaky door was just- well it was a part of them. A part of their house. He always knew when someone was home. The annoying sound it made had become a running joke in his family, as they would all imitate it whenever they came home seeing who could resemble it the most. It closed behind him with a suction sound and click of the handle. At least those noises were still there. 

Lance got to work starting dinner, putting two cups of dry rice in a pan with butter and oil. He let that begin to warm while he took out the meat, cutting it carefully in strips before sliding it into a pan with the knife. The sizzling coming from the kitchen and the smell of the browning meat and rice made him forget about the door issue. He poured chicken broth into the rice, standing back so the steam didn’t cloud his face. That pan hissed loudly and he promptly put a lid over it. He poured the beans into a third pan and covered that as well. 

“Smells good down here.” 

Lily clambered down the hallway and settled herself into one of the stools surrounding the kitchen island. “Just don’t burn the rice like you did last time.” 

Lance gawked. “I did not burn it! I was just- Luis was supposed to be watching the food!” Lance pursed his lips and took off the lid to the rice, giving it a few stirs with a wooden spoon. 

“Well he’s not here, so don’t get distracted.” She hummed, tapping away at her phone. 

“I won’t get distracted. I have nothing to be distracted by.” He set his shoulders back, moving to stir the meat. 

“I don’t know, you might get caught up thinking about your new boyfriend.” She sang, still looking at her phone. 

Lance dropped the spoon and cursed as he burned himself retrieving it from inside the pan. “He is not my boyfriend.” He said firmly, walking over to the sink the run his hand under cold water. 

“Then who is he? It’s not like some random kid from your class would give us a ride. People don’t do shit like that.” 

“Language.” Lance said automatically, and bit his tongue. Their dad used to do that all the time. It had become a habit, a joke even. But now it sounded empty and wrong. He glanced at Lily, who had looked up from the screen. Her lips were tight, eyes almost scared. 

“Well, maybe he just wanted to help me out.” Lance shrugged. It didn’t really make sense though. The more he thought about it the stranger it seemed. Why would Keith have given him a ride? It wasn’t like he had to. 

His thoughts were interrupted by the front door swinging open. His older brother stepped through, hanging his jacket on the pegs by the wall. “Hmm dinner smells good.” Then he paused. “Huh, mom must have fixed the door.” The slight frown on his face made Lance feel better. At least he wasn’t the only one to notice it. 

Luis’ face quickly faded to a smile that looks like Lance’s, which means it looks like their fathers. He was tall and lean, but instead of Lance’s floppy mess of hair, he had short curls. 

He set his book bag on the counter and came over beside Lance. “Don’t burn the rice.” He smirked. 

Lance smacked him in the chest, pointing the spoon at him. “Ha ha very funny.” He glared at his snickering sister. 

Then his brother is sniffing, like he has a runny nose. He leaned closer to Lance. “I thought you were supposed to be quitting.” 

“I am.” Lance defended. “I just- had a moment of weakness.” 

Luis sighed, rolling his eyes. “You’re not quitting if you keep having these ‘moments of weakness’” 

“Yeah, well at least I’m not doing crack or heroin or something crazy like that.” Lance huffed. 

Luis laughed and went to sit beside Lily. “Thank goodness for that. We don’t need you to be any more hyper. Oh, and Mama said she’ll be done in a couple minutes.” He said. 

“Coolio.” Lance hummed, stirring the rice again, this time it being a little thicker. He smiled softly at the smell. It smelled like home and warmth and familiarity. His sibling bickering at the table. His mother coming inside and slipping off her shoes, smacking them together outside before placing them beside the others. The twins galloping down the stairs like horses. The clink of plates and glasses as they dish up food into warm tortillas. The hums of contentment as they take their first bites. How those hums slowly melt into conversation which melt into laughs. 

Lance could just forget about the fights. His grades. The smoking. Keith. His dad. He can forget all that stuff and just spend thirty minutes eating good and familiar food with his family. 

“Lily, how did the appointment go?” Their mom asked, as she began collecting empty plates. 

“Just the usual.” She shrugged. “Brenda wasn’t there so I worked with this other lady. Her hands were so sweaty.” 

Lance’s sister shuddered as he chuckled as he finished off his food. Luis was already up out of his chair and helping put the dishes in the dishwasher. 

“Lance I noticed your room was pretty messy. You need to clean it before before the weekend.” Their mom chided as she scrubbed off the food that had stuck to the pots. 

“Yeah, yeah I’ll get to it.” He smirked, carrying his plate over, washing it off, and placing it with the rest. 

“That goes for the rest of you.” 

A collective groan from the family. All except Lily, whose room was probably already spotless. Luis had his room in the basement, and Lance never really went down there so he wasn't sure if his room was dirty or not. He knew for a fact that the twins probably had a new kind of fort set up in their room. Last week it had been a summer camp. The week before that it was a hotel. It cost Lance a hundred dollars in monopoly money to stay for five minutes. The service was great, but it was a little small for his liking. 

The cleaning up was interrupted by his mom’s phone ringing. She wiped off her hands and rushed over to answer it. Lance looked at her weird as she stepped out onto the front step, pressing the phone to her ear. 

“Who do you think that was?” Lance asked Luis, as he stepped in to take his mom’s place if washing the dishes. 

Luis froze for a moment. “Uh, I don't know. It’s probably just work or something.” He shrugged. 

Lance watched his brother actively avoid eye contact. “You’re hiding something.” 

“No I’m not.” 

“Yes you are. You’re a terrible liar Lou.” Lance stacked the clean pots on a towel, and Luis began to grab them, wiping them down with a red towel. 

“It’s none of your business.” Luis huffed, his drying getting increasingly quicker. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Lance scowled. They didn’t hide shit from each other. They told each other everything. “It’s mean stop asking about it.” Luis quickly finished off the last pot and disappeared into the basement. 

What the fuck was that? What was wrong with everyone today? First Keith, now his brother. Did Lance smell bad? He did a quick check. Nope. He smelled like coconut, per the usual. 

His mama walked back in the house, and set her phone on the counter. 

“Ah, thanks for doing the dishes mijo.” She walks over and pulls his head down so she can kiss his forehead. 

“Sure thing mama.” Lance replied blankly, watching his mom walk up the stairs. 

When she was at the top of the stairs, known by the the last stepped that groaned under anyone's weight, he walked over and opened her phone. His mom never kept a password on her phone, and now Lance thanked her for it. He opened up her recent calls and looked at the one made only five minutes ago. At the top of the list, the name read “Karen (realtor).” 

Lance looked at it five times. He even closed the app and reopened it, only to find that it was still there. 

A realtor? Why would his mom be talking to a- 

Was she selling the house? Without telling them? He set the phone down. His chest felt tight and his breathing quickened. 

This- this was their house. It was their house. Every single kid was brought home here. Lance took his first steps here. Luis had his graduation party here. All their heights over the years are marked on the wall in the laundry room. And now someone was just gonna march in here and paint over it. Paint over the memories. The family pictures would be taken off the walls. They would see the chipped counter and not know that mariana had chipped her tooth on it. They would see the crushed drywall in the upstairs hallways and not know that it was Lance’s head that made that mark. 

Blinded by a sudden frustration, he marched down to the basement to find his brother typing on his laptop. 

“You knew. How long have you known.” Lance’s hands are sweaty, as he folds them into fists. 

Luis looked up from the screen with confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“The house Luis. Mom’s selling the house.” His voice was shaking now. 

Luis sighed and closed his device, setting it to the side. “Lance, mama didn’t want-”

“Didn’t want me to tell me. Well why the fuck not? Don’t you think it’s my business too? Don’t you think it’s all of our business?” 

“Lance keep your voice down.” Luis urged, standing off his bed. 

Lance scowled. He wanted to scream. He wanted to cry. He wanted to spit. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why- why is she selling the house?” 

“Well the family isn’t exactly drowning in money Lance.” Luis’ face is stern. Lance hated that it looked like their dad. It looked too much like their dad. “We can’t afford the expenses anymore.” 

“And you’ve been talking with mom about this the whole time.” Lance could feel the warning tightness in his throat that threatened tears. 

His brother sighed again. “She- she asked me to help figure out the numbers. We’ve found an apartment not too far away, so you won’t have to change schools and-”

“Stop trying to make this sound like a good thing.” Lance snapped. “You guys have just been lying to us for god knows how long and now we’re gonna have to move all our shit and- and-” He couldn’t even find the words to describe how angry he was. How frustrated he was. 

Luis took a step forward. “Lance, it’s not like we want to move. It’s just-” 

“Fuck. you.” Lance snarled, before whirling around and marching up the stairs. He couldn’t even think. He couldn’t see as the tears spilled out of his eyes. He shoved his shoes on and grabbed his jacket, before closing the no-longer-squeaky door behind him. He wasn’t really sure where he was going but he just kept walking. And walking. And yes he lit a cigarette. No he didn’t care. Not now anyways. He just walked and walked and walked. 

How could they not tell them. How could they just do this without talking to everyone first. How could his own brother not tell him. 

He ended up on Hunks street, and debated on whether or not to go climb through his bedroom window. It wasn’t that late, so he would probably still be awake. He wiped his nose on sleeve and climbed over the well built fence that led to Hunks backyard. He tapped three times, then twice on the window and waited. A few second later Hunks face appeared behind the current, eyebrows sewn together. He pushed the window to the side, and stepped away to let Lance climb through. 

“What’s wrong?” Hunk asked just as Lance buried his face in his friends chest. Hunk immediately wrapped his arms around him while Lance cried. The maneuvered to the bed, and Lance curled against his best friend, while Hunk rubbed his back soothingly. 

“Wanna talk about it?” Hunk asked quietly after a while. 

Lance sniffled, and said into Hunk’s now tear stained shirt. “Mom’s selling the house and Luis is a little bitch.” 

“She’s selling the house? Are you moving away? Where are you moving?” 

Lance sat up, and leaned against the headboard. “Luis said they found an apartment nearby. So I can stay at school and stuff.” 

“Well, I mean that’s good.” Hunk said carefully. 

“Well it still fucking sucks.” Lance leaned back into his shoulders. 

“I know man, I know.” 

 

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had meant to put this up like a week ago, but I hadn't edited it yet, and then school happened and yeah... so enjoy! I'm already halfway done with writing the third chapter !


	3. Homecoming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance doesn't know what he's feeling 125% of the time. Get the boy some help geez louis

Chapter 3 

Lance ended up at sleeping over at Hunks. He texted his mom and let her know that he was staying over. She was used to these impromptu sleepovers, and told him to stay safe and have fun. He ended up falling asleep on Hunk, in which he woke back up at two in the morning with a neck ache. They got ready for bed properly then, Hunk letting Lance borrow a toothbrush and pajamas, which hung off loosely off his frame. They climbed back into Hunks queen sized bed, Lance scooting back up against Hunk, and falling asleep again, tucked into his friends side. 

Hunks parents were only mildly surprised that Lance was there, asking him how he was doing, etc. Lance just said that he was good. 

Despite the good sleep that he had gotten from cuddling Hunk, he still felt exhausted. At school that morning, he passed his sister in the hallway. 

“Why did you bail last night?” She leaned in close. 

“I just spent the night at Hunks.” 

She rolled her eyes. “I heard you fighting with Luis. And you didn’t take anything over there, so I know it wasn’t exactly planned.”

Lance resisted the urge to fidget. “Don’t worry about it Lils, I’ll see you at home.” He took off down the hall for History. He didn’t want his sister to have to worry and stress over the house. Being fourteen was hard enough on its own. 

That morning he went home before school to take a shower and grab his stuff. He had his brother drive him to school and jump start his car. He said the battery was probably fried, those being the only words he exchanged with Lance. It wasn’t like Lance wanted to talk to his brother either. Now Lance was gonna have to fork over a hundred bucks to pay for a new car battery. He sure as hell wasn’t gonna ask his mom to pay for it. Not now. 

He met Hunk in their AP Bio class. It was his favorite class. It kept him engaged and it was interesting stuff too. And the teacher was their favorite. Mr. Patrick, or Kyle, as the upperclassmen call him, was one of the younger teachers at school. Most days of the week, when they didn’t go off campus, Hunk and Lance would sit in his classroom and their lunch and chat with Kyle. 

When Lance got to the room, Hunk was already there looking over a piece of paper with the teacher. Lance strolled in and sprawled out on top of the table near where they were sitting. 

“Really Lance, on my table?” 

Lance just groaned, not bothering to lift his head up. The lack of sleep had already taken its toll this morning when he fell asleep in the middle of History. 

“He didn’t get a lot of sleep last night.” Hunk mentions. “And as a result neither did I.” 

“I heard that!” Lance whined, finally lifting his head. “And I am very grateful for your cuddles.” 

Hunk and Kyle chuckle. 

“Everything okay Lance?” Kyle asked casually, though there is a hint of concern. 

Mr. Patrick was probably the only teacher that Lance truly trusted. He didn’t need to feel embarrassed or ashamed or nervous about telling him things. It was comforting, like a mix between a therapist and a friend. 

Lance pushed himself up as he sat with his legs crossed, one dangling over the edge of the table and skimming the floor. “My mom is selling our house.” He said wearily. 

He watched his teachers black eyebrows knit together. “Do you have to move away?” 

Lance shook his head. “No, we’re just moving to an apartment complex nearby. Or, at least I think so.” 

Kyle nodded, folding his hands on his desk. “Well, hopefully it will only be temporary. And if you think about it, you might be moving out for college soon anyways.” 

“Yeah, like I’ll have enough money for that.” Lance scoffed. “Now my mom only has one job. She’s got five kids she needs to pay for. There’s Lily’s medical bills and physical therapy. She’s already helping Luis through college right now. Then she needs to worry about saving for the twins. My dad’s child support isn’t going to cover that stuff and he’s too busy with god knows what to be saving money for us anyways.” Lance rambled off, feeling a fiery heat build up in his chest, in his head. 

He felt a tap on his thigh and looked to see Hunk handing him a hair tie. Lance must have been fiddling. He gave Hunk a small smile and took the band in his hands, lopping it into knots and untying them. 

“There’s always scholarships Lance. You’re plenty smart and-”

“No I’m not.” He bit harshly, crushing the band in his fist. “Anyone who needs a tutor for something isn't smart enough to get scholarships.” 

Kyle sighed. “Lance you-”

“I’m gonna go take a walk.” Lance scooted off the table and was out the door before anyone could say anything. He rounded the corner and burst through the side door, out into the chilly air. His breath coming out in quick puffs. 

He paced back and forth, hands twisting the tie even faster than before, almost frantically now. He could feel his throat getting tighter, his chest getting tighter, his lungs, his heart. His audible breaths became quicker as he continued to pace, beating a track into the barkdust. 

He hated this. He hated this suffocating feeling. He hadn’t gotten an anxiety attack in a while. He was doing good. He was good. But now everything was crumbling in again. This year was supposed to be good and normal and fun. He didn’t want to have to worry about anything. He had a plan. 

The hair tie shot out from his fingers, landing somewhere in the dirt. He didn’t care. He kept pacing, now pressing his thumb into his palm, digging his finger nail into his hand, adding a crescent crease to the natural lines in his hand. It stung but he didn’t really care. If he pressed harder he could just focus on that. Just focus on that and not the house, or his brother, or his mom, or money, or college, or his dad, or scholarships, or-

“Lance?” 

He snapped his head up, nail still sinking into his skin. Keith was rounding the corner, a bandana around his neck, and a basket of spray paint cans in his arms. They rattled as he came to a stop.   
Lance panicked for a moment, trying to compose himself. He shoved his hands into his pocket, ignoring the sharp pain that had settled into his palm. 

“You…” Keith’s eyes looked him up and down. “You okay?” 

“M’fine.” Lance scowled, looking off to the side. He hadn’t realized that tears were beginning to fill his eyes. He turned quickly and attempted to wipe a couple of them from his cheeks. He cleared his throat quietly. “So uh, what are you doing?” 

Keith waited a moment before answering, eyes scanning Lance once more. 

“Just making some posters for homecoming next week.” He lifted the box of cans slightly to emphasize. 

Lance nodded. “Sounds exhilarating.” 

Keith chuckled softly. “Eh, it’s not all bad. Allura makes the stencils and I just have to spray over them.” 

“I didn’t know Allura did artsy stuff.” Lance sniffled, still trying to hide the fact that he was attempting to get over the anxiety attack he had thirty seconds ago. 

“Yeah, she’s really good. She does like metal art and screen prints shirts and stuff. She made the ASB shirts this year.” Keith moved the basket to the side and looked down at his shirt. The white letters “ASB” stood out against the black shirt. Bold, detailed, graphic lightning bolts surrounded the letters. 

“Woah, that’s pretty cool.” Lance leaned down to get a better look at it. 

Keith shifted awkwardly as Lance straightened back up. “Um, I need to put these back before lunch ends so…” 

“Yeah, uh yeah. Sure that’s cool. That’s cool.” Lance rambled, stuffing his hands back in his pockets. 

Keith nodded. “Okay, well see you around.” He shot one more worried look at Lance, before stepping around him and pulling open the door. 

Lance walked over to the wall and leaned against it. He tried to ignore the intense awkwardness that had surrounded that conversation. He ignored his anxiety attack. And just breathed. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Two beats in, four beats out. Repeat. Repeat. 

“Hey bud, you alright?” 

Hunk’s soft voice joined the sounds of Lance’s breathing. 

“M’okay.” Lance said, continuing to breath. In and out… in and out. 

“Can I hug you?” 

A nod. His hair sticks to the brick wall. 

Lance heard Hunk shift towards him, before feeling those familiar strong arms wrapping around him. Lance turned and buried his face in his friends chest, tucking his arms between them. 

“You wanna talk it out?” 

Shake of the head. 

“Okay. That’s okay.” 

Although Lance still felt like crap, Hunk’s hugs made things just a little better. 

 

___________ 

 

Lance wished he could have gone home, but he had scheduled his tutoring session with Allura for every Wednesday. So as everyone walked towards the doors, he walked to the library. One thing he discovered about Allura was that she texted back within seconds. It- it was kind of unnerving, but also refreshing? It definitely helped out Lance’s anxiety. 

He turned the corner and saw her already standing there. 

“Lance!” Her straight teeth flashed as she smiled. 

“Hey.” He nodded his head, offering a small smile of his own. 

“Hey, do you mind if we maybe go to a coffee place or something? I just think the library is kind of stuffy.” 

Lance could not have agreed more. “Yeah, that sounds good.” 

 

*

Lance wasn’t really feeling up to talking, but it turned out he didn’t have to. Allura talked most of the way there, mixed with soft singing under her breath. 

He shouldn’t have been surprised that the coffee shop she drove them to looked like something from a magazine. There were potted plants on the window sills and the tables were a dark brown wood. The barista he could see had an ear full of piercings and a flannel tied around their waist. 

Definitely a hipster place. 

Allura picked a table by the window and pulled out a notebook and a copy of the text Lance was working from. 

“Okay,” She tapped the table lightly with her nails, catching Lance’s attention. “I’ll go get us something to drink and-”

Lance held out his hand. “No no no nope. You’re already doing this whole tutoring thing for free, so I’ll pay. What do you want?” 

Allura smiled kindly. “That’s very nice of you Lance, thank you. And just a London Fog please.” 

He had no idea what a London Fog was, but Lance nodded, before standing up from his chair and standing in line. The man in front of him was talking urgently on phone, and showed the woman a card, probably with his order on it. Geez, the guy couldn’t wait two seconds to order is damn coffee like a normal person? Once the man had stepped out of the way, Lance ordered his and Alluras drinks, then stepped over near the cellphone-man to wait. He glanced back at Allura, who was typing furiously on her phone. He looked back behind the counter at the other barista making his drink- was that Keith?

“Keith?”

The boy turned around and, yep sure enough, Lance was greeted with sharp violet eyes and- were those glasses? 

“Lance?” 

Yep those were definitely glasses. Thick rimmed, but not too thick to be gaudy. They looked good. The glasses themselves. Not the glasses on Keith just- nevermind. 

“Hey, I didn’t know you worked here. I mean I didn’t know you worked at all. And like, I’ve never been here. But, ya know.” 

The corner of Keith’s mouth turned up slightly. “Uh, yeah. I’ve worked here for a while.” Keith busied his hands again, as he stuck two tea bags in a clear container of hot water, then moving over to steam a small cup of milk. 

Lance just watched, now leaning against the tall counter. “So what’s with the glasses?”

Lance silently cursed himself. Why the fuck did you ask about his glasses? He’s working you dumbass, don’t distract him. Lance was losing himself because of fucking Keith. No, not ‘fucking Keith.’ Let’s make that clear. There’s a pause between those two words. Not that- ugh. 

Keith gave him a look. “Uh, I dropped my contacts down the drain. New ones don’t come for another week.” 

Lance nodded. “Gotcha.” 

Keith turned again. “Here’s yours.” He handed him his drink, warm through the thick paper cup with the shop logo stamped on the side. 

“Thanks.” Lance smiled. 

“Allura’s will be a couple more minutes. The tea is still steeping.” 

“Okay, whatever that means.” 

Later when Lance told Hunk about this coffee shop exchange, he didn’t believe him when Lance said that Keith giggled. An honest to god giggle. 

“When you have the tea bag in the hot water, it’s called steeping.” Keith explained through a small smirk. 

“Oh, okay.” Lance nodded, still a little phased from Keith’s giggle. Though, he doesn’t really know why. 

A couple minutes later, Keith handed over Allura’s drink. Lance thanked him, and then went back over to join Allura. 

She took a long sip of her drink, which baffled Lance because it was really fucking hot when he held it in his hand. 

“Okay, “ she started. “Let’s get started. So how far are you on your annotations?” 

 

*

Lance was convinced that Allura was actually a thirty-five year old in a seventeen year old’s body. She worked some kind of alien magic that helped Lance understand everything perfectly. They made it through the short story Lance was supposed to annotate, and started an outline for his essay. By the end of it Lance was feeling good. He felt more confident. He was able to push the whole house problem on the back burner for a moment, and just let himself feel good. Also he was pretty jacked up on caffeine. That might have been helping as well. 

He was also at Hunk’s getting high so that also might have been helping. 

“What color were the glasses?” Hunk asked, blowing the smoke out quickly. Hunk definitely was not as high as Lance was, which was cool. But also it meant that it was all too easy for Lance to make a fool of himself. Which meant that Hunk had gathered a fuck ton of black mail. 

“They were black, but like red on the inside?” Lance took the joint from Hunk and took a long hit. “His eyes looked fucking ridiculous.” 

“What do you mean ridiculous?” 

Lance took another hit. “Like, bright? But also dark? I don’t know man it’s a really cool fucking color though.” 

Lance is too busy taking another hit to see Hunk smirking at him. 

“Their pretty, yeah.” 

“Hmm hmm. Yeah.” Lance breathed out. 

Hunk’s eyebrows lift, the smirk still plastered on his face. “Keith is pretty good looking in general, don’t you think?” 

“Uh huh. Yeah. Like, unfairly so.” 

Lance took another hit.

 

__________ 

 

Since Lance had found out about the house, he had been getting about four hours of sleep a night. One night he had gotten up around midnight to get a glass of water. Halfway down the stairs he could see the kitchen light on. He crept down one more stair and saw his mom hunched over the kitchen island, papers spread out in front of her, the family laptop screen bright. She had a hand pressed to her temple as she shuffled through a few before writing something down in a notebook. He heard her quietly sigh and sniff. It made Lance’s heart hurt and ache. Here his mom was, crying over bills, and Lance had been busy pouting about having to move. 

Now he was in AP Lit and falling asleep. Again. His forehead was buried in his arms on the table. They were all just supposed to be working on their papers, so he didn’t think it would be a big deal. He shifted his head, fitting into the right spot in the crook of his arm, getting as comfortable as one could while sleeping on a desk when-

“Lance. This isn’t nap time, come on.” He felt a harsh hand shake his arm. 

He lifted his head slowly, blinking himself back awake. Miss Rivers was staring down a him, unamused. 

“I already finished my first paragraph so can I just go back to sleep.” He asked wearily, putting on his best puppy dog face. 

She smiled politely. “Well then you can just move on to your body paragraphs.” 

Lance groaned, smacking his head back down on the table. That earned him a few snickers from some girls at the nearby table. He lifted his head again and gave them a quick wink. They giggled some more, the brunette blushing furiously. Lance figured he would get her number by the end of school today. He was pretty sure her name was… Alina? Alaina? Allison? Something like that. For the rest of class he made eyes at the girl, who kept giving him shy smiles. Oh yeah, he’s definitely getting her number. 

Once class ended, Lance sauntered over to the girl, who was slowly putting her things into her backpack. 

“Hey there.” Lance said smoothly, leaning one hand on the desk in front of her. 

She looked up in fake surprise. “Oh uh, hey Lance.” 

Lance bites his lip slowly, looking at her through lidded eyes. “Well I couldn’t help but notice how nice you looked today, so I figured I kind of had to come and tell you.” 

She giggled lightly, a way that was made you want to smile too. “Thanks. I’m surprised you actually came over to talk to me.” Lance could see a blush creeping up into her cheeks. 

“Well can I get your number? I just wanna make sure that I don’t miss an opportunity to compliment you.” 

And yeah, Lance felt smooth as fuck. 

She giggled again, carefully pulling out her phone and handing it to him. Her home screen was of flowers. That’s nice. Lance concluded that she was a sweet girl. 

Numbers and winks were exchanged, and Lance walked out of class felling a bit lighter and a little more awake. 

*

Because it was Thursday, Lance had to pick up Lily from piano practice. Quoting her directly, she said that she “did not want to be seen leaving the school with her douchebag of a brother,” so she took the schoolbus and got off on the stop nearest the piano teacher's house. 

Lance would be hurt, but he was used to it by now. He had about an hour and a half to kill before he went to pick her up. He wasn’t really in the mood to be at home, as tension was high now that he had found out about the house. Not that his mom knew that he knew, but Luis was still being a dick. 

He switched his backpack to his other shoulder and sauntered down the hall to the school gym. He was fairly sure there was only track practice today, so the gym would be empty. He passed the gym teachers tiny office and snatched they key ring hanging on the cork board behind the football game schedule. Right where it always was. 

He twirled the keys in his hand, liking the jingling noise they made as the sound echoed off the wall. He pushed open the gym doors. They slammed back into place as he flicked on all the lights and unlocked the supply closet, grabbing a worn basketball with the school name scribbled onto it with sharpie. He dribbled it as he walked out to the free throw line, holding it in his hands. It felt familiar in his palm, the smooth and rough rubber twisted across his hands as he dribbled around and jogged up for a layup, the ball slipping through the net gracefully. This was something he used to do with his brother and- well nevermind. Basketball was a good memory. And he had worked to keep it that way, but certain parental figures had to go and fuck that up too. He still played though, just not with other people. If he played with someone else- well it just makes Lance hate it all over again. So he came to the school gym occasionally, or the park court and played by himself. It sounded lonely, and it kind of was, but Lance didn’t mind too much. 

He jogged back around the gym, sweeping the ball between his legs as he turned and jumped up to tip the ball into the net. Jog back around to the free throw line, jump, let go, and swish. Repeat. 

After about half an hour he was getting winded, but not tired. He took shot after shot, missing few. He loved the look of the ball dropping through the net, the satisfying swishing sound. 

His next layup approach was interrupted by the gym doors swinging open. 

“Hey you’re not supposed to be in here!” 

Lance turned around half run and- THUMP! 

Lance’s body collided with the wall behind the basket and he was sent to the floor. “Fuck!” He groaned, grabbing at his forehead. 

“Holy shit!” He heard the person jog over to him. “Lance? Jeez we need to stop meeting like this.” 

Lance groaned in reply. Fucking Keith. Of course it was him. And what the fuck was that ringing noise?   
“Lance? Can you hear me?” Keith shook his shoulder slightly. 

“Stop shaking me, jesus christ.” He rolled over, still holding his palm over his forehead. He opened his eyes slowly, forgetting that he had had them closed. “Can you turn off the lights in here or something?” He tried to sit up, but a firm hand pushed him back down. 

“Don’t move. You might have a concussion.” 

Lance’s head was throbbing too much for him to really hear what Keith was saying, but he stayed down anyways. His vision was blurry so he closed his eyes again. 

“Lance. Stay awake.” 

“Huh uh.” Lance pouted, shutting his eyes tighter. Oh fuck that kind of hurt. He loosened his eyelids. 

“Lance.”

“I’m awake dumbass.” He grumbled, swatting at Keith blindly

“Don’t hit me.”

“Don’t talk to me.” Lance bit back, rolling over again, trying to find the right position where his head hurt the least. 

“I’m trying to help you asshole.” Keith huffed. “Can you sit up?” 

“It hurts.” 

“Just try it okay.”

“Why are you even here.” 

“I was gonna hang homecoming posters.” 

“Hmm.” 

There’s a brief silence. Lance tried moving his head around. Nope, it still hurt. 

“Wanna try sitting up?” 

Lance groaned again. He literally would have been fine with anyone else coming into the gym. And it was Keith’s fault anyways for distracting him. Lance rolled to his side again and pressed his hands into the ground. His head throbbed, and his ass hurt too. Stupid Keith and his stupid homecoming posters and his stupid eyes. Finally he was sitting and fuck it was bright. Way too bright. Lance squinted his eyes, and saw Keith kneeling beside him, thick eyebrows knit together in either worry or annoyance. Maybe both. A stack of large colorful posters was laying beside him. 

“You okay?” Keith asked, shifting his weight to the heels of his feet. 

“M’fine.” Lance said. God this week just couldn't get any worse. 

“Can you stand up?” 

“Yes, jesus I’m not five years old.” Lance snapped, jerking his head to the side and causing another dizzy spell. He just wanted to throw something or hit someone. Or just run for hours. Though he wasn’t so sure he could stay on his feet at the moment. Lance tried anyways. It was almost time to go get Lily anyways. Lance pushed himself off the ground, taking a moment to steady himself. He took a few steps forward and woah okay he was still pretty dizzy. 

“Geez Lance sit down. I can go get-”

“Stop! Stop doing that!” Lance scolded. “I don’t need your help. I’m fine on my own. I’m. Fine.” He clenched his jaw so tight he could feel it in his temples. 

Keith blinked at him. Standing up quickly, he scowled. 

“God, what the fuck it your problem.” Keith bit back, gathering the posters in his arms. “Just lay on the gym floor all night for all I care.” He walked off the the opposite side of the gym and started taping posters to the wall. 

Lance glared at the back of his head, still leaning against the wall because his head was still spinning. Fuck Keith. Fuck Keith and his stupid hair. His stupid posters. His stupid sweater. His stupid glasses. 

“Fuck you Kogane!” Lance yelled, flipping him the bird as he made his way out of the gym as confidently and carefully as possible. 

He didn’t look back to see if Keith had looked back as well. Lance held his hand out against the wall as another dizzy spell hit him. Shit, how the hell was he gonna drive? He made it to his car and sat in the driver's seat, hands braced on the wheel. Okay, he can do this. It’s literally like ten minutes away. He can do this. He’s fine. It’s fine. Another sharp pain ran behind his eyes. 

He groaned out loud and took out his phone and shot a text to his brother. 

Lance - hey can u pick up Lily from piano?

Luis - why can’t you?

Lance - Can you or can’t you?

Luis - I’m busy 

Lance - ugh

Luis - okay… Now why can’t you get her? 

Lance - none of your business. I’ll get her it’s fine. 

Luis - Lance if you’re doing something illegal I swear to god 

Lance - jesus christ give me a little credit 

Luis - I stopped giving you credit when you turned five 

 

Lance scoffed and tossed his phone in the passenger's seat and leaned his head back. He was not a big fan of his brother right now. Not only had he been keeping a secret from Lance for who know how long, but he was still treating him like a child. He still hadn’t brought it up to his mom. She didn’t need anything else to worry about. Maybe Lance should get a job. His mom had lost her major source of income and the bills were not gonna pay themselves. 

He took a breath, turning his head around and making sure that yes, he could drive. After picking up Lily from piano, he went straight up to his room and began looking for local job openings. He figured he wouldn’t consult his mom, because he wasn’t supposed to know that she got laid off. 

He found a couple and sent them the basic online resumes all in the span of three hours. His hyperfocus had surprised him. It was rare that he was able to focus so long. It must have been the combination of hate and determination that fueled him. The hard part was the waiting. Lance knew in the back of his mind that the three places he applied to would not get back to him within four hours. He knew they wouldn’t even get back to him within twenty fours hours. Friday past. Then the weekend. He wasted his time by going over to Hunks and smoking. He also snuck into the school gym again and shot hoops for until he felt like his arms were gonna fall off. His head felt better, although there was a slight bump that a had not gone down yet. 

He had also been texting Allison all weekend, the girls number that he had gotten a few days ago. She was very sweet. After a whole weekend of non stop texting, much to Hunks annoyance, he realized he didn’t really learn a whole lot about her. He had intentions on asking her to homecoming, although he wasn’t sure how. He liked the dramatics of dance proposals, but he wasn’t going to go about and embarrass himself. He didn’t want to come off too strong. He discovered that girls weren’t fans of clingy people. Or they just weren’t a fan of him. Either way, Lance had learned to tone himself down. 

Monday came around and he still hadn’t heard from any of the jobs. 

“Hunk, I admit defeat. I will be unemployed forever.” 

Lance was splayed out on Mr. Patrick’s table again during lunch, while Hunk went over their physics assignment with him. 

The other two snorted a laugh. 

“Lance, just be patient. One of them will get back to you soon.” Kyle said, stabbing at the pasta in his tupperware container. 

Lance just whined, smacking his feet against the table like a toddler. 

“Lance, sit up and help me with this.” Hunk scolded. Kyle had given them a physics assignment over the weekend, and the two boys had neglected doing it, despite it being due tomorrow. 

“I’ll do it tonight.” Lance sighed, keeping his body glued to the table. 

“Lance. This is a big assignment. It would probably do your grade a favor if you got it done.” 

Another groan. 

“And it will also help you with some of the concepts on the chapter five test next week.” 

This time his groan is higher pitched. 

“Lance.” Hunk huffed. “You’re gonna get mad at me later for not forcing you to do this and then you’ll have to stay up late finishing it and you’ll be a wreck in the morning and you’ll bother me all day and-”

“Alright, alright Hunk. Jeez.” Lance pushed himself up and reached down to grab his backpack from the floor. He pulled out his science folder and took out the packet. This stuff wasn’t actually that difficult for him, but his distracted ass couldn’t focus long enough to get it done or even get started. 

“How far are you Hunk?” Lance hopped off the table and peered over his friends shoulder. 

“I’m on question five and no you can’t copy me.” 

Lance grumbled a curse and pulled a chair to Mr. Patrick’s desk. He plucked a pencil from the can of assorted utensils and flipped through the packet again. 

“Just take it one question at a time, and when you’re done you’ll see it is all related.” Mr. Patrick said in a calming voice that made the assignment seem less daunting. 

Lance huffed a big sigh and flipped to the front of the packet. 

________

 

It was Wednesday and Lance figured he should make his move and ask Allison to homecoming. He left home early in the morning and drove to the nearest safeway to buy some flowers. Simple and sweet, but not to crazy. He straightened his jean jacket and texted her to meet him in front of the building. 

God, why were his palms sweaty? He had done this a million times! Well not a million, probably only like 12 times? 

He switched the flowers from hand to had so he could wipe his palms on his black jeans. He watched the front door swing open and Allison's white teeth stretch into a smile. 

“Are those for me?” She grinned teasingly. 

Lance chuckled. “No, actually they’re for Principle Zarkon. I was gonna ask him to homecoming and I needed you to make sure that I made the right choice of flowers.” 

She rolled her eyes and tucked a piece of long brown hair behind her ear. “Uh huh, sure McClain.” 

Lance smirked again and pressed the flowers into her hands, where she pulled them close to her chest. 

“So will you go to homecoming with me?” Lance was glad that his voice sounded smooth and steady. 

“Yes.” She grinned wider, and stepped closer, almost crushing the flowers between them. Lance expected her to rise up on her toes, so he saved her the trouble and leaned down to meet her lips. They tasted like cherry lipgloss and something minty. She hummed as he moved a hand to her waist. It felt nice. It felt correct. Like how you always use flour to bake stuff. You just know that you’re gonna need some amount of flour. 

Yeah that’s a weird analogy, but that’s just how it felt. 

The feeling followed him throughout the day when Hunk congratulated him. And still later when his sister gave him an unenthusiastic congratulation. 

“Wow you asked a girl out. Again.” She huffed, continuing to work on her math homework. 

Lance stuck his tongue out at her, and got to starting dinner. He had to pick up the twins after school earlier, because his mom was working late at the clinic. Lance hated that she had to lie. He had heard from two of the places he applied to work, and one offered him an interview. He had never been to dutch bros in his life, but he figured he would get a lot of free coffee from it. 

By the time everyone had eaten dinner, with no complaints Lance might add, his mom walked through the door. 

“Ah it smells good in here Lance.” She grinned, but her eyes were tired. She ruffled his hair and patted his tattooed arm. Not before scowling at it slightly of course. 

He dished up a plate for his mom while she asked about each of their days. 

After Lily talked about her easy math test, she blurted out, “And Lance has a girlfriend now.” 

“Lily! What the hell?” Lance whipped around, his soapy hands flinging suds onto the floor. 

“A girlfriend? And when did this happen?” His mom raised an eyebrow at him. 

“I just asked her to homecoming, it’s not a big deal.” 

“So asking a girl out isn’t a big deal to you?”

Lance huffed. “No- it is a big deal, I just don’t want you guys to make it a big deal.” 

His mom rolled her eyes. “Mijo, teasing you is how we love, alright sweetie.” She stood up to give Lance her plate. 

“So how much did you give her to say yes?” Luis smirked from behind his phone screen. 

“Shut the fuck up Luis.” Lance grumbled. 

“Lance. Language.” His mom glared at him. 

“Must be why you get all those detentions.” His brother continued. 

Lance dried his hands angrily turned to his brother. “Would you stop?” 

“Stop what? I’m only saying what’s true. And what everyone else is too nice to say!” Luis was standing up now. 

“Boys.” Their mother warned them. 

“Well atleast I don’t lie to my family!” Lance stepped toward his brother, glad he had a few inches on him. It added an extra intimidation factor. 

“Fuck off.” Luis growled. “You’re not responsible enough to do anything but sit there and smoke.” They were now almost touching noses. 

Lance pushed his brother firmly in the chest. “Fuck off!” 

“Boys! Stop that right now.” His mom rushed forward to push them away from each other. “What has gotten into you too? And swearing in this house? The twins are playing upstairs.” She talked quickly, her eyes showing a stern disappointment. 

“This house.” Lance scoffed, “We’re leaving anyways who even cares.” 

His mom froze. “How do you-”

“I saw the realtor calling on your phone.” Lance shouted at her. He never shouted at his mom. He had never. Not once. “And I know you got laid off! And you only told Luis? You can’t even trust me enough to tell us we’re moving?” He hated the tightness forming in his throat. 

“We’re moving?” Lily’s voice was impossibly quite. 

His mom didn’t freak out. She only sighed quietly. “Lance, Lily. I was going to sit all of you down and tell you soon, but I just wanted to make sure that we had a buyer for the house.” 

“Well that’s fucking fantastic.” Lance bit, wanting to end this before he started crying. “Now I’m gonna go smoke like the delinquent you all think I am.” 

He wiped his eyes as he turned, pulling the pack of cigarettes from his jacket pocket. 

*

 

He let the smoke settle into his lungs for a few seconds, before blowing it out slowly. He didn’t hear the door open and close, no more squeak, but he could hear his mom’s quiet footsteps walking towards him. 

“Lance, mijo.” Her voice was so soft. “Can you put that out for a moment?” 

He took one last drag and flicked it into the driveway, crushing it under his shoe. 

His mom came up beside him and placed a hand on his shoulder, rubbing her thumb against his shirt softly. “You know I remember when I brought you home. Here.” 

Lance didn’t look at her. He stared at the crushed cigarette on the ground. 

“You were so small,” she continued. “Smaller than your brother. And he was so excited to have a little brother. He wanted to help with everything.” Lance could hear a smile in her voice. “One time we went to the beach, and you were still quite young. Being the eager child you were you just started running into the waves. I was pregnant with Lily at the time, and was not very fast, but your brother was right there grabbing your hand and pulling you away.” 

Lance sniffed. “Why are you telling me this.” His voice sounded like he hadn’t used it in years. 

His mother paused. “Because you’re brother has always wanted to protect you and keep you safe. That’s what brothers do. That’s what family does.” 

He felt her head rest on his shoulder, arm rubbing up and down his back. “And Lance, I know you’ve been having a tough couple of years. I’ve seen it, and I haven't done much about it and I’m sorry. You’re brother doesn’t always see the good things in you, but I do every day. You are so smart and brave and kind mijo.” 

Lance could feel hot tears spilling out of his eyes. 

“You’re gonna do great things Lance, I know it.” She whispered, like it was a secret for only them. Lance rubbed at his face and turned to wrap his mom up in a hug. She smelled like her perfume and the pomegranate hand soap that’s in all of their bathrooms. 

“Te amo.” Lance whispered into her hair, tears coming faster now as they hugged even tighter. 

His mom hummed, rising to her toes to kiss him on the forehead. “I love you too Lance.” 

 

_________ 

 

Luis hadn’t spoken to Lance since their fight and Lance was perfectly fine with that. He was too busy to care about his brother. 

He was browsing the Goodwill with Hunk on the Friday before the dance trying to find a good outfit for homecoming in a couple of days, which was decades themed. Hunk held up tie dye shirt over the racks, seeking Lance’s opinion. He and Shay, who he finally asked out, chose to go with 60’s. Lance and Allison had decided on 50’s. She was big into Grease apparently. Lance found it kind of cute. He was also a big fan of Grease, but he didn’t tell her that. 

Hunk came around with the shirt tucked under his arm. “Okay, so I can’t really find any pants that will work.” 

Lance hummed, flicking through the racks, “Doesn’t your dad have those like puke green corduroy pants from college?” 

Hunk’s face lit up. “Oh yeah! Great idea.” Hunk walked around to where Lance was looking through leather jackets. 

“You find a good one?” 

“Eh, a couple. My arms are just too long for most of them.”

“You could always roll up the sleeves.” 

“Yeah I guess that would work.” 

Lance could feel Hunk’s eyes on him. It didn’t give him an uneasy feel, but more of a warming feel. It made him feel hyper aware of everything he was doing. 

“You okay man?” Hunk asked softly. 

Lance shrugged, eyes still on the rack of jackets. “Yeah, just busy you know? I start training for work on Sunday after the dance, and just schoolwork and stuff is a lot.” He shrugged again. 

Hunk was quiet for a moment. “Lance.” 

“Hmm.” God he didn’t want to talk about this shit in the middle of a Goodwill. 

“Lance. Come on man, you can talk to me.” 

Lance chewed on his lower lip. “M’fine Hunk.” Lance grabbed a jacket and slung it on, twisting his torso in the dirty mirror. “I think this one’s good.” He said, quickly taking it off and making his way to the cashier. 

“Lance wait up, jesus.” Hunk grumbled behind him, 

Lance ignored his friend as he took out his wallet and paid the elderly lady, as she scanned the small tag on the jacket. He could still feel Hunk’s eyes on him, as Hunk paid for his shirt and fringe vest. 

And Lance didn’t want to do this. He didn’t want to break down in the middle of a Goodwill parking lot. Because how fucking pathetic. How miserable to you have to be to start sobbing in the middle of a goddamn Goodwill parking lot. 

Hot tears were spilling out of his eyes as soon as his feet hit concrete. He quickly wiped them away with his jacket sleeve, trying desperately to keep his shit together. He was almost never embarrassed to cry in front of Hunk, and he wasn’t sure why today was different. Everything was just crashing down on him all at once and he couldn't fucking handle it. He hated the constant tightness in his throat. The pressure and energy it took to keep up his appearance. To just make it through each day. 

He had to clean his room yesterday because potential buyers were coming to look at the house. They were gonna be in his room and talk about where to put their stupid ass treadmill or work desk and not know that someone grew up in that room. It’ll just be another space for them to fill. 

“Lance?” He felt his friends gentle hand on his shoulder. 

Apparently he had decided to stop in the middle of the parking lot, so Hunk steered him towards Hunk’s car. 

“What’s going on man.” Hunk’s voice sounded hurt, like he was gonna cry too. 

Lance just shook his head, pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes. Why was he crying so fucking much. God, he hated that. He hated himself. 

“I can’t do this anymore Hunk.” Lance sobbed into his friends chest as Hunk pulled him closer. He could hear Hunk sniffle above him. 

“I’m so sorry Lance. I know it tough.” Hunk cried with him, pulling him tighter and tighter until Lance could barely breath. But at least he could feel this. He could feel how hard Hunk was hugging him. The tightness in his throat. His hot tears soaking into Hunks sweatshirt. 

And Lance felt fucking pathetic just standing there sobbing in the middle of a Goodwill parking lot. 

 

* 

Saturday came and Lance went over to Hunk’s to get ready. His house was messy from his mom and brother packing their home away in cardboard boxes. Lance had found more and more excuses to be out of the house. He hadn’t even started packing up his room. 

He combed the gel through his hair, slicking it back one more time to get it to stay. God, he looked ridiculous, but also kind of sexy at the same time. Beside him, Hunk was pulling his hair through the headband wrapped around his forehead. 

“You ready big guy?” Lance clapped his friend on the shoulder, grinning at him. Hunk had been a nervous mess all day, not wanting to mess up his first date with Shay. 

“This is lame right? The whole our first date is homecoming thing? Like, does she know it’s a date? Or is this just a friend thing? Or-” 

“Hunk.” Lance stopped him. “It’s a date. Definitely. Now stop freaking out, she’s already in love with you.” 

Hunk let out a breath and straightened his shoulders in the mirror. “Okay, let’s go.” 

Lance grabbed his leather jacket and slipped it on over his tight white tshirt. They climbed into Hunk’s jeep and drove to pick up the girls, who both decided to get ready together as well. Lance was kind of glad this this wasn’t a formal dance, because that meant paying for dinner. He wasn’t exactly drowning in cash. He had done well with his Dutch Bros training the other day, and he had just gotten his schedule. But pay day wasn’t for another two weeks so he had to be frugal. 

They pulled up to Shay’s house and they walked up to the door. Lance could see Hunk wiping his palms on his corduroys. Lance gave him an encouraging budge as he knocked on the door. The door swung open to reveal Shay in wide legged jeans and a flowery blouse. Her hair was straightened and she wore a bright grin. 

“Hey!” She greeted. “Allison! The boys are here!” She shouted up the stairs. “Hunk you look groovy,” she giggled. 

Hunked blushed a bright pink and laughed too. “So do you.” 

Jesus Christ these two were disgustingly adorable. 

“I’m liking the Danny vibe, Lance.” Shay smiled at him. 

“Thanks, love the pants.” 

“Goodwill.” She confirmed, and she gestured for them to come inside. Her house smelled like the beach, but not that musty fish smell- the good smells from the beach. Like salt and windy air and ice cream. Now Lance wanted to go to the beach. He wanted to visit his grandparents in Varadero Beach and eat from that amazing food cart and go skateboarding down the boardwalk. 

“Hey Lance!” 

He looked up and saw Allison trotting down the stairs. She was wearing white pressed trousers that ended at her ankle and a pink bomber jacket over a white blouse with buttons down the center. Her bright red lips matched the bandana wrapped around her hair. 

Shit, he was gonna get red lipstick all over his face. 

“Hey, you look great!” Lance smiled, at her, hugging her as she bounded towards him, slinging her thin arms over his shoulders. 

“So do you handsome.” She smirked, pecking him on the cheek. “Oh, shit I got lipstick on you.” She grimaced, giggling to herself. 

He smiled at her. “Eh, it’s all good. Now everyone knows you’re my lady.” He winked, kissing her cheek lightly. 

She grinned, her lips stretching wide revealing those white teeth. 

“Alright, you guys ready?” Hunk asked the group. 

“Yeah! Put on your dancing shoes boys! It’s time to let loose.” Allison smiled wide again, and skipped out the door. 

Lance laughed. This would be good. He could just forget about all the shit happening in his life. 

He followed everyone to Hunk’s car and got in the back with Allison, who was bouncing to the music that Hunk was playing. Lance laughed and allowed himself to sing along for a moment. Allison made him feel loose and warm. This was good. He was good. He was fine. 

They pulled up to the school and found it already full with cars. He could hear the bass of the music coming from the gym doors that were wide open. He could see the strobe lights flicking across the pothole-filled pavement. 

They clambered out of the Jeep and walked up to the table by the doors. Behind the table, Allura and Nyma we’re collecting tickets, both dressed as 20’s flappers. 

“Hey Lance, Allison!” Allura greeted warmly, the red feather sticking from her hand band rustling in the breeze. “Tickets?” 

Lance dug them out of his pocket and handed them to her, flashing a smile at Allison. 

“Alright, have fun!” Allura beamed, putting their tickets in the metal box. 

Lance slipped his hands into Allisons and walked through the streamers dangling from the door. The gym was full of people dancing and milling around, a mix between awkward and too much grinding. 

“Want something to drink?” Lance had to yell for Allison to hear him. 

“Sure! I’m gonna go talk to Jess!” She shouted back, squeezing his hand and breaking away to go talk to her friend. 

Lance pushed his way through the crowd, giving a couple bro-hugs to guys in his class, before finally making it to the drink table. Which was basically filled with capri-suns. He laughed out loud and grabbed a couple, turning around to take in the gym. He saw Hunk and Shay talking together eagerly at one of the tables in the corner. That made Lance smile. He almost wished his sister was here, but she decided to stay home. He looked over at the DJ booth and saw Pidge’s older brother Matt, who had graduated a couple years ago, bobbing his head to the beat as he pressed buttons on a fancy board. 

Lance went to sit in one of the chairs and wait for Allison to come find him. He sipped his capri-sun idly. 

“Can I sit?” 

Lance turned his head mid sip and saw Keith standing over him, hand in the pockets of his high-waisted dress pants. 

“Yeah, sure man.” 

Keith gave him a tight smile and collapsed into the chair, a scowl settling into his face.

“So why are you here Mr. Grumpy.” Lance joked. 

He sighed. “Allura said everyone on ASB should come, and my brother thinks I should ‘put myself out there’ or some bullshit.” 

“You’re hot brother?” 

Keith snorted, suppressing a grin. 

“Oh, so you do know how to laugh, okay.” Lance smirked, feeling a real laugh bubble up in his chest. 

“So what decade are you supposed to be?” Keith looked at him, thick eyebrows scrunched together. 

Lance looked down at himself. “I’m a greaser.” 

Keith looked just as confused. “A what?”

“Dude. From Grease. Only like the most iconic musical ever?” 

Keith snorted again. “You’re into musicals?” 

Lance pouted. “Uh, well no- I mean kind of- but- anyways. You’ve never seen Grease?” 

Keith shook his head, his bangs swishing across his forehead. 

“Have you ever heard of Grease?” 

Another shake. 

“Oh my god, you are uncultured.” 

Keith rolled his eyes, laughing again. A good laugh that made his collar bones bounce. “Well can you guess what decade I am?” Keith flicked his eyebrows up in challenge. 

Lance looked him over. His dark brown suspenders we’re clipped to his ironed slacks. His white button up was rolled up to reveal his forearms. 

“I don’t know, but you look like a stuffy businessman who wants to sell me insurance.” 

Keith huffed and smirked. “20’s. Allura wanted all of ASB to match or something.” 

“Awe how cute.” Lance teased, but felt his cheeks get hot. 

Keith rolled his eyes again, but Lance saw him blush as well. “Well takes one to know one.” 

“What?” 

“Hey there you are! Is that a capri-sun?” 

Allison was bounding up to him, and grabbing the juice from the table. Her cheeks were flushed and she looked excited. 

“Yeah, yeah that’s for you.” Lance said blankly, still staring at Keith, who was now staring at his shoes. 

“Thanks!” She smacked the straw against the table and slipped off the plastic, poking it through the pouch. She sat down in the chair beside Lance, and leaned into him. 

“Hey Keith, lookin sharp.” Allison smiled. 

“I’m gonna go. See you later.” Keith got up abruptly and walked off, tucking his hands back in his pockets. 

“What was that about.” Allison sniffed. “Whatever. Wanna dance?” 

*

Lance dance a few songs with Allison, including a slow dance. He put his hand on her hips, and she wrapped hers around his neck. He kissed her gently and she pressed closer to him. It was nice. Just baking with flour. But he couldn’t stop thinking about Keith. 

‘Takes one to know one’ 

He had called him cute. 

Keith Kogane had called him cute. 

His whole life may have been one surprise after another but that- that was the biggest fucking one of all. 

After talking with a group of people, he excused himself to find the bathroom. He needed a breather. He walked out of the gym and down the hall. When he rounded to corner he saw two figures near the wall, pressed very close together. 

“Oh, uh sorry.” Lance muttered, then froze as two heads popped up and light revealed their faces. Keith’s panicked violet eyes. Beck Green’s smug face. 

“Um, okay. Bye.” Lance turned on his heels and walked back down towards the gym. 

What- what the fuck. What the actual fuck was happening?! 

He walked back up to Allison, slipping a hand around her waist in a pathetic attempt to ground himself. 

“Woah, that was a fast pee.” She chuckled. 

“It’s a gift.” Lance shrugged, forcing a grin to his face. She laughed. 

What the actual flying fuck. 

* 

The night dwindled down, and Hunk said Shay was tired and ready to go home if they were. Allison agreed and went off to say bye to her friends. 

“You get any action Hunky boy?” Lance nudged him. Maybe he could just push past it. Just shove it down. Swallow it down. 

“No, would you stop already.” Hunk blushed and smiled. 

“Here’s what we’ll do. We’ll drop Allison off first, then when you walk Shay to the door, just give her a good ole’ smooch.” 

Hunk blushed even harder and buried his face in his hands. 

“Why are you so good at the whole dating thing. You’ve literally kissed her like four times just tonight!” 

Lance blinked at him, pondering. “Well, you really like Shay. And you want to treat her right. That’s why it’s such a big deal. She’s super special and unique. It's just because you care about her.” 

Hunk smiled softly at him. “Man, when'd you get so soft.” 

“I am not soft.” Lance poked him in the shoulder, shying his face away. 

The girls joined them and they all walked to Hunk’s Jeep. Allison stuck close to Lance’s side as the cool air hit them. He didn’t realize how warm it was in the gym. They all laughed as hunk twirled around, the fringe on his outfit flaring out. 

“Come on Kogane, give me a little action baby.” He heard faintly over to the side of the building. 

“Shut the fuck up.” 

Lance turned his head, as did the rest of them to see Keith pushing back one of the basketball players, who was towering over him. 

“Awe, you gave Green some, can’t you spread the love?” 

“I said fuck off!” Keith tried to sidestep him, but the guy pushed him back. 

Lance broke away from Allison, his feet moving on their own. “Hey, Parker. He said to back the fuck up.” Lance grabbed the shoulders off his jacket, and slammed him to the ground. 

He landed with a hard thud on his side. Lance heaved a breath from the exertion. He turned to Keith, who was still pressed against the wall, eyes as wide as they were earlier. 

“You oka-UMPHF!” Hands locked around his ankle and yanked him down, his ass landing in the dirt. 

“Lance!” He heard Hunk shout. His friend split off from the girls to go after him. 

Lance rolled over onto the Parker, gripping his shoulders as they rolled around, throwing elbows and fists and knees. Lance could taste dirt in his mouth as he received another elbow to the stomach. 

“Lance!” Hunk said sternly, pulling at his friends jacket, trying to pull him off the other boy. Hunk heaved and pulled him to the side. 

“You fucking touch him-” 

“Lance, that’s enough!” Hunk huffed, holding him back as Parker scurried off to find his loser friends. 

Lance shrugged out of Hunk’s grasp and wipe his bloody lip. His torso ached, and so did his ass from landing on it so hard. 

“Lance-”

“I’m fine Hunk, can we just go.” He pushed past his friend, before remembering Keith. He turned quickly to see him still pressed against the wall, lips parted slightly as his chest heaves up and down. His palms still attached firmly to the brick, like it was the only thing holding him upright. 

“Keith,” Lance took a step towards him. “Are you okay? I-”

“Just go Lance. Please.” His voice sounds raw and broken. It made Lance’s heart flip and his stomach roll. 

“Keith come on,” Lance sighed. “What the fuck is your problem?” 

Keith looked up at him with wild eyes. His lips moved, but no sound came out. Lance wasn’t done. 

“Do you just thrive off of pushing people away? People who want to be your fucking friend? Do you just have a gigantic stick up your ass or something? Jesus Christ!” Lance tugged at his hair. “You’re so fucking infuriating!” 

“You don’t know me.” Barely a whisper, Keith’s palms still rooted to the wall. 

Lance almost didn’t hear him. “If you want to say something to me asshole, speak up.” 

“I said, you don’t. Fucking. Know me!” Keith screamed. A small group of people walking out the gym lingered, whispering towards them. 

“We’ve literally had four conversations in our entire life and two of them made me want to kick your ass! You think you’re so fucking cool and hot well you’re not! Your just an asshole looking for the next girl to bang! It’s like I’m fucking invisible! You can’t even see what’s right in front of your fucking face! ” Keith spit out. He took two bold steps forward, getting in Lance’s face. 

“So, fuck. Off.” Keith growled, before striding away, fists balled at his sides and swinging angrily. “By the way, you have lipstick on your face.” 

Lance stood there, Hunk a few feet away. Allison and Shay a few feet away. But it felt like he had lost. He definitely did, because he wouldn't feel this way. Not that he could define what he was feeling at the moment. 

He turned to his friends and his date. To his date who was looking at him like he was an axe murderer. 

“Um, let’s uh- let’s just go.” Lance’s voice shook. He brushed past all of them and walked towards Hunk’s jeep. He felt like he lost something. But he never even had it. He didn’t even fucking see it. 

“Lance, what the heck is going on?” Hunk jogged up to him. “Since when do you hang out with Keith?”

“I don’t.” God, why was he so upset about this? It was like he was destined to have very thing go to shit and he was destined to feel like the world was ending. 

“Then can you please tell me what just happened here?” Hunk sounded desperate. Desperate to help his friend. To figure out how to help him. Lance didn’t realize he was hurting Hunk too. 

Lance turned around. Allison was still staring at him. The bottom right corner of her lipstick was smudged. 

“Hunk- I’m sorry. Allison, you’re really sweet and I-” God he was such an asshole. “I think I’ll just walk home or something…” Lance trailed off, looking in the direction of his house. 

“No, man I’ll drive you home.” 

“I practically don’t have a home.” He croaked. “ I am going to be living in a two bedroom apartment with five other people. That logically doesn’t work. I’m going to be sleeping on a fucking futon in the living room. I’m just-” He could feel his chest getting tighter and his breaths shorter. 

“I- just- fuck. I can’t- I can’t bre-” 

Hunk’s eyes went wide as he rushed over to him. “Lance, hey hey, look at me. Look at me. Can I touch you.” 

Lance could feel hot tears on his face as his lungs tightened and tightened faster and faster the lights blending and everything spinning around holy shit shit shit fuck he couldn’t breath he couldn't- he couldn't he couldn’t breath he- he- 

“Lance.” He felt firm hands on his shoulders. “Look at me. Hey, look at me.” 

Lance’s head slowly moved up, or maybe it was fast, he wasn’t sure. He saw Hunk’s warm brown eyes, staring into his. 

“Breath with me okay? In and out. In and out. There you go.” 

Lance put his hands to Hunks collar bone, feeling his steady heart beat as he followed his breath. His mind slowed and slowed and slowed, until he felt like he just finished a marathon. 

“Lance, buddy. We need to- this stuff keeps happening. Let’s just get you home, and we can talk to your mom.” 

Lance’s head nodded mechanically, letting Hunk stand him up because apparently he had sunken to the ground. He heard Hunk say something to Shay and Allison, but he didn’t really hear it. 

“Let’s go home buddy.” Hunk guided him to his car and into the passenger's seat and then back out the door and to his front door that didn't squeak into his living room with the boxes stacking up to the couch that he always laid on when he was sick. 

“Lance, mijo.” His mother’s hands on his face. 

Lance blinked and his moms face came into focus. She looked worried and sad. It made him hurt even more. 

“Lance, oh honey. Come here.” 

He was pulled into his mom’s arms, Hunk on the other side of him, rubbing his back. 

He felt so fucking lost. 

.

.

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this update took so long! I had finals to study for, but now that I have finished all of them the updates will be sooner. Thank you to all my faithful readers who are following this fic! 
> 
> Please leave kudos and comments or come chat with me on Tumblr @ TheoreticalMindGames 
> 
> <3 Jay

**Author's Note:**

> Hello Friends! I've been working on this fic for a while and I'm pretty proud of it! Feel free to leave kudos and comments, I reply to all! 
> 
> <3  
> Jay


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